VENM
by Inquisitor ryke
Summary: Vasren Corvus, a former mercenary and now a student of beacon. as he attempts to heal the wounds of his past he meets a colourful cast of characters who will join him on his journey. But escaping his past isn't that easy, and he quickly realises that his past life is reluctant to let go. However even more jarringly, is vasren himself ready to abandon his past?
1. Chapter 1, fire and blood

**hello, this is inquisitor ryke with my new story. For those of you new to my page I hope you have a pleasant read. For those of you who have come here from RAVN. Please forgive me.**

**here is chapter one, so as always. Have a pleasant read.**

Chapter one:blood and fire:

The airship floated forwards, a stately, dignified kind of motion that captured the eye and held it. It's six wings gently moved up and down, like the fins of a great whale. Below it, a sea of green forests rolled across the landscape, a deep, peaceful carpet.

Vasren leaned against the railing, looking out at the clouds that kept the lumbering ship company. Behind him was the city of mistral, the origin point of their cargo, and his assignment. The river glistened below them, winding its way through the forest towards the ocean.

Vasren breathed deeply through his nose, and back out through his mouth. The wind tasted of life.

He felt a soft pressure on one shoulder.

"What are you doing out here, Vas?"

Vasren chuckled and bowed his head. "I must confess I don't know the answer to that, Astrid. What do you think I'm doing out here?"

Astrid laughed, a gentle, musical sound. So full of life, so full of vibrance. He smiled where she couldn't see.

"How in the hell would I know? Sulking maybe?"

Dust, he loved that girl.

Vasren put a hand to his chest and stiffened in mock hurt. "Me? Sulk? I'm hurt."

"Oh I'm sure you'll get over it." She laughed and leant against his side.

Vasren put an arm around her waist, and she wrapped her left arm around his back.

"I'm sure I will..."

They stood there for some time, a comfortable silence falling across them, a velvet shroud. It was the quiet of two young people, alone in a beautiful place, no words were necessary, the mere presence of one another was enough to fill the silence.

Vasren smiled at the thought.

Astrid leaned her head against his shoulder. "So, have you thought about the letter yet?"

Vasren sighed, the letter had been troubling him for weeks now. "Of course I thought about it, and I'm still not sure what to do about it. I mean, for starters I'm two years too young."

Astrid shrugged.

"It happens you know, if a candidate shows enough promise they send the message out early. It's quite a privilege actually."

Vasren grunted acknowledgement, conceding the point.

"But still, I don't really know what to think about it, it's a huge change from what I do now, from how I live now."

Astrid spun him around to face her. "Look, you can't stay a mercenary for ever, sooner or later you'll end up dead, that's just how this line of work tends to be. Now, your being offered a chance to get out, to change you path. If you don't accept this, I will personally beat you senseless."

Vasren smiled and hugged her. "Alright, Astrid."

She smiled and nuzzled into his neck.

"I'll miss you though, Astrid"

She snorted. "Come on, you can see me on weekends, or even at the holidays. I'll try not to get killed while your gone." She grinned at him and extricated herself from the embrace. She gently touched his cheek. "But before you worry about all that, let's finish this job shall we?"

Vasren nodded and turned around so his back was to the railing, long coat flapping around his legs. Astrid turned around to walk inside, her hair streaming in the wind.

Vasren Corvus rubbed his temples, attempting to dispel the encroaching headache he was getting.

The airship groaned as it continued to fly, it's bloated cargo hold filled with container after container of dust, bound for the markets of vale. He snorted derisively to himself. Markets of vale? All this schnee company fire dust was headed straight to the military, that was for damn sure. So long as he got paid though, he didn't care.

"Hey, Vas."

Vasren turned to see Aren leaning out the door of the passenger area.

"Yes?"

Aren walked out to join him by the railing. "You got a second, Vas?"

Vasren shrugged. "Sure, we have a while till we make port after all."

Aren nodded and relaxed against the railing. "Yeah I just wanted to ask your opinion on something. I, uh normally wouldn't ask but I'm kinda... I dunno unsure? I suppose and I"

"Get to the point please"

"Yeah sorry" Aren breathed deeply and blew out a long breath. "Do you think, uh, Zoe and I..."

Vasren gave him a flat stare. "Why in the hell would you ask me about that? Of all people?"

Aren laughed ruefully. "Yeah I guess your right."

He shivered and pulled his jacket closer over his body, the worn leather creaking slightly. "How do you stay out here? It's so cold this high up."

Vasren chuckled and patted the younger mercenary on the head. "You just gotta toughen up junior, nothing else for it." Aren glared at him, then relented and smiled up at him.

"In any case you should come inside, Vasren, the rest of the gang is all there, join us."

Vasren nodded. "Just gimme a sec, I'll be right there."

Aren nodded and walked inside.

Vasren took another lungful of the clean, frigid air. The wind blew through his hair, the obsidian strands floating across his eyes. He shook his head to clear the strands away, tucking them behind his ear.

Wait a second, what was that? Vasren leaned against the railing, squinting into the distance. An airship, just a small one, not even as big as the bullheads used by most companies. It was sleek and streamlined, with a pair of close-set engine nacelles. It looked like some rich kids leisure yacht. Vasren made a dismissive sound and turned towards the door.

SCHINK.

Vasren turned slightly, eyes wary.

A large portion of the railing was gone, right where he had been standing. In its place was a mass of mangled and twisted metal. He ran back to the railing and looked back down at the airship he had seen before. On its back was a heavy cannon of some sort, it's barrel smoking. Vasren drew testament with one smooth motion, pointing the sword at the unfriendly airship and opening fire. A fifteen millimeter cannon spat flame from the centre of the sword, between the two blades. With each shot the barrel depressed into the shock absorber, reducing the recoil enough to wield one handed.

The Rhythmic boom shattered the silence on board the airship, drawing several of his fellow mercenaries from the passenger compartment.

Zoe spoke up. "Vasren, what's going on?"

Vasren rolled backwards, ammunition spent. Once again the deck plate was split open by a shell from the cannon on the other airship.

"Battle stations, there's a smaller airship down there firing at us, see if you can drive him off."

Zoe nodded and sprinted inside, the other three mercs on her heels.

Vasren slammed a fresh mag home and moved to the crew area at the front of the ship. On his way over he saw Aren running towards him, concern on his face. "Vas, there's two more behind us and closing in fast, though they don't seem armed."

Vasren snarled. "Boarders then, get most of the people to counter the boarders, but get Darius down below to try his luck at sniping the gun crew, alright?."

Aren nodded briskly and moved quickly to obey.

Change of plans.

Vasren ran into the bridge, where the captain was franticly looking through the ships periscopes.

"How long until we reach port?"

The captain looked up from the eyepieces, panic setting in across his face.

"About an hour sir, if we remain undamaged"

Vasren nodded and ran through the doors of the bridge, slamming them open with more force than he intended. No matter. The passenger compartment was nearly empty, everyone but a few crewmen had already assembled at the back of the ship.

The six of them stood shoulder to shoulder on the rear balcony of the ship. Astrid threw him a grim glance and rolled her shoulders. Aren drew his pistols, slamming fresh magazines into each gun and cocking the slides. Astrid unlimbered her own weapons, a pair of short swords, each fitted with a handgun at the base of the blade.

Zoe, Darius and Raynor drew their weapons as well, metallic sounds ringing across the deck. Finally Vasren drew his sword, testament. The twin, parallel blades were a smokey grey alloy, each three feet long and razor sharp. The blade widened near the tip, before curving back inwards to a pair of sharp points. Between the flat, inward edges of the blade was a long barreled cannon with shock absorbers wrapped around the base of the gun.

He held the sword up by his face, observing the approaching airships from between the points of the blade. He swung his sword to rest at his side and took up a fighter's stance. The small airships were closing fast on the lumbering freighter, their quad engines audible even from this distance.

A third ship, which Vasren recognized from earlier, rose up to take point in their formation. The three sharp, black shapes shadowed them like wolves stalking prey.

Vasren smiled. This prey has teeth.

Astrid stepped forwards to the railing. "Alright guys, get ready. Vasren, Zoe, Raynor. Down here with me, Darius and Aren, you get up to the roof and give us some fire support."

The team nodded and quickly spread out across the airship.

Vasren stepped up next to Astrid, coat flapping behind him in the wind. "Who do you think these guys are Astrid?"

Astrid shook her head. "I don't know Vasren, but whoever they are, they picked the wrong ship to capture."

Vasren nodded. Astrid turned and looked at him, smiling. She pulled his head down and kissed him. It was a brief kiss, but the sensation lingered on vasren's lips. He stepped to the right to give himself room to fight. The Pirates were closing in fast.

Gunfire erupted from the bow of the lead airship, wild erratic shots that fell short of the ship. A single shot rang out from above them and the gunman fell silent. Darius smirked behind the scope of his rifle, calmly tracking another target.

Grappling hooks launched from the lead ship, embedding themselves in the hull. The four mercenaries on the deck formed a rough wedge shape, Astrid and Vasren taking the fore as Raynor and Zoe stood wide on the flanks. The other airships nose pushed against the railing and a veritable horde of enemies leapt over the prow to land amongst them. The first few were knocked down by gunfire from above, but the second wave quickly got amongst the closer ranged combatants. Astrid swiftly dispatched one with precise strikes of her twin swords, the blades easily disarming him.

Vasren cleaved downwards at one, snapping the upraised assault rifle he tried to use to block. The combatant's eyes widened as Vasren sent him flying with a kick to the solar plexus. The next one however was right behind him. Vasren stepped back and brought the sword to a fencing stance. The combatant was dressed similarly to all the others, a black jacket with blue interior and a design of a flame emblazoned on the front. Other than that they all wore black combat gear and masks over the nose and mouth.

Vasren smirked and swung towards his next opponent, who lithely stepped backwards beyond the reach of the blade. Oh well. Vasren squeezed the trigger under the crossguard of his sword, sending a fifteen millimeter high explosive shell screaming from the barrel to impact the combatant. The unfortunate enemy was sent cartwheeling back into his ship. He took a moment to glance around. Raynor was holding his own against five enemies on the right side. Astrid was dodging effortlessly between the attacks of the combatants she was facing, while striking back with graceful ease. Vasren glanced in front just in time to see a new combatant leap from the ship.

Unlike the others her jacket reached her knees, and was trimmed with a stark white. In her hand she wielded an elegantly curved katana, a white ribbon attached to the pommel. The two warriors studied each other for a moment, contemplating. Vasren leapt to the attack first, sword slashing forwards in a powerful horizontal sweep. The girl blocked it easily, skidding slightly on the smooth deck. She disengaged and struck back, her sword flickering outwards like a snake. Vasren barely dodged it, the sword slicing the tips from the hair on his right side. Vasren swung again and again, trading blows with the girls at speeds almost too quick to follow.

Vasren was breathing hard after only a minute of fighting, the exertion getting to him quicker than he would like.

He had to end this now. Snarling he swung a vertical sweep at her, which she easily sidestepped. Perfect. Using the momentum from the strike he spun himself around and planted a kick in her stomach, smashing her against the railing on the deck. Vasren kicked again, this time to her temple for the knockout blow. She was quick though. She grabbed his foot and twisted, forcing him to spin in midair to avoid a broken ankle. He hit the deck hard, and she was on him instantly. He brought his sword up to block barely in time. Her weapon pressed against his, both hovering directly over his throat. For a while they struggled, breath rasping and eyes blazing. Vasren strained upwards,both hands wrapped around testament's hilt. He pushed violently upwards, unbalancing his opponent. She cursed as he hefted her bodily sideways to land on her back, winded. He drew back a fist and punched her in the temple, knocking her out cold.

To his left and right the rest of the Pirates lay in groaning heaps. Raynor was on his back, hands clutched to his side. Astrid and Zoe ran over to him, while Vasren made sure the leader was tied up and the rest were all unconscious.

Raynor groaned, blood seeping through his fingers slowly. Vasren knelt down next to him as well. Zoe looked at him, tears standing in her eyes. She shook her head. Vasren stood up and bowed his head. He turned to observe the other airships. They were drawn up close, close enough for him to see the two figures standing on the prows. One was a giant of a man, he wore a sleeveless uniform and had an enormous maul in his hands. The second was slimmer, and had a halberd like staff, with a blade at either end.

The ships rolled a pair of cannon out of hatches on the sides and split up, one going around each side of the cargo hauler. Astrid looked up from Raynor's body, expression grim. Vasren dove at her and Zoe, knocking them both to the ground and holding himself over them as the airship cannons opened fire.

The air erupted in smoke as high explosive shells blasted across the deck, shrapnel spraying in all directions. Vasren grunted and closed his eyes tightly, acrid cordite invading his nose and mouth.

Darius and Aren sprinted to the far end of the roof, before skidding to a halt, watching the shrapnel storm edge inexorably closer. Darius slung his rifle across his back and took up a sprinting stance. Aren braced himself to run as well.

Darius closed his eyes and slowed his breath. Then he broke into a run, legs powering him forwards the progress of the enemy cannon. Aren followed, barely a second behind. Darius hit the last stretch of intact roof and leapt forwards, right as an explosion ripped apart the passengers area. He landed and rolled, careening into a table and chairs. Aren landed behind him running over to him while crouched.

"Come on Darius, let's get over to Astrid." He looked down and took hold of Darius's arm. "Look, we need to hurry, before they-"

Aren stopped suddenly. Darius entire front was covered in blood, welling and seeping from a multitude of deep lacerations on his front. The shell had sent a deluge of razor sharp shards of metal straight up at him from underneath, blasting straight through his aura and killing him instantly. Aren bowed his head and gritted his teeth. He looked up grimly and ran over towards where Vasren was.

Vasren got gingerly to his feet, back aching from the impact of all the shrapnel from the HE shells. Astrid and Zoe stood up behind him, just as Aren came through the door. He drew both his pistols and checked the slides. His eyes alighted on Raynor and he gasped, then bowed his head again. Vasren looked down through the doorway, catching sight of Darius's outstretched arm. He shook with rage. "From now on... Keeping them alive is not a priority"

Grim, furious nods went round the group.

Astrid spoke up. "Aren, get to the left side with me, Vasren and Zoe, get the right."

The mercenaries set off in opposite directions, weapons drawn and eyes ablaze. The airships were docked now, cannons rolled back into the hull in order to allow the troops aboard. Vasren roared with fury and bowled straight into them, testament carving a bloody swathe through their ranks.

His first opponent was cut down almost instantly, testament shattering his upraised sword and smashing him to the deck. Vasren spun and swept his blade sideways, knocking a second opponent straight over the railing. Zoe ran past him, a blur with fiery orange hair. She swung her spear in blinding cuts and jabs. Three enemies fell, strewn across the deck like broken puppets. Vasren raised testament and dispatched the last few combatants with pinpoint shots. Zoe came to a stop, breathing hard, with tears streaming down her face.

BOOM!

The cannon in the side of the airship fired a shot at point blank range. Zoe spun inhumanly fast and raised her hands, golden light forming a transparent, tinted shield that pointed towards the airship. The shell detonated thunderously, the blast wave throwing Vasren backwards to skid across the deck. As the smoke cleared the slight figure from earlier stepped out from behind the cannon, pole-arm in hand. He turned towards Vasren, who now stood a scant eight feet from him. He looked down to his side, where Zoe lay. She was still, her brilliant orange hair matted with blood. The shield had blocked the shell, but the shrapnel had continued through and perforated her.

"What a waste." The figure said, deadpan. He spun his staff idly and looked coldly at Vasren. Vasren gritted his teeth and gripped testament with a white knuckled ferocity. The figure turned his head and spat next to Zoe's corpse.

"DAMN YOU"

Vasren leapt forwards, too quickly to dodge and hacked at his opponent, his sword seeming to split the air itself. The warrior brought his staff up and caught the blow. He then swung his torso around and flipped Vasren over. Vasren was, however an experienced fighter, and he twisted midair and landed on both feet, sword up in a guard position.

The man sighed, seemingly unhappy.

"This is such bullshit, I didn't sign up to kill kids."

Vasren ground his teeth. "Really? Because you seem to have taken to it rather well."

The figure's eyes narrowed and he leapt to the attack, blade swinging. Vasren deflected the first blow, the curved blade slicing through the air scant inches from Vasren's face. Vasren powered his blade forwards, aiming straight for the throat. However the second blade was quicker, using the turning momentum from the first strike to whip the blades around quickly. The steel raked across his breastplate, the ceramic armor saving him. The impact however unbalanced Vasren's own strike, and he tripped and fell into the wall of the passenger area. The staff slammed down towards him, the point aimed straight at his chest. He brought testament up, barely. The blade skidded off the sword and buried itself next to him, punching straight through the thin metal off the wall. Vasren kicked out at his opponent, who leapt back lithely.

Vasren fired his cannon at him, point blank. The shells detonated thunderously against the whirling blades of the halberd. One, however got through and slammed into his aura, seriously depleting it. The halberdier staggered back from the sheer velocity of the round. Vasren tucked his shoulder in and charged. The halberdier once again deflected the force of the charge, trapping the haft of his halberd inside Vasren's arms and swinging him around. Vasren flew through the gaping hole left by the cannon to tumble into the passenger area. He stood up, slamming a new clip of shells into his cannon. A shattering sound went off behind him. He turned to see Astrid vault through one of the few windows still intact. She was breathing hard and had blood spattered over her face.

She turned to look at Vasren, eyes shining with tears. Vasren stepped towards her, then turned to face his assailant. Astrid stepped back to back with him.

"Aren, is dead. That bastard with the hammer got him. Zoe?"

"She's dead too, just us left."

Astrid sobbed slightly. The halberd wielder stepped through the ruptured wall, twin blades held at a diagonal.

"You have just this one chance to surrender, lower your weapons, and you will not be harmed."

Vasren gritted his teeth, rage boiling through his veins. They couldn't win. The halberd wielder had easily outclassed him, while Astrid was in no shape to fight. His eyes teared up, this was no way to die. He heard Astrid's weapons strike the floor before she slumped, and fell to her knees. Vasren Half turned, seeing her bowed on the floor. He turned back towards his assailant, who waited patiently. Testament dropped from nerveless fingers, and Vasren too fell to his knees. The halberd wielder nodded, and gestured towards the wall. Astrid and Vasren sat against the twisted and mangled steel, defeated.

A second figure walked into the room, a massive maul held in both hands. The head of the maul was spattered with blood. Aren's blood. The halberd wielder turned to him.

"Make sure these two don't cause trouble, I'll check the cargo."

The huge warrior nodded, and turned to face the defeated mercenaries. The halberdier disappeared below decks, leaving them alone with the maul wielder. Astrid had her face buried between her knees, and her arms wrapped around her legs. Vasren cast a venomous glare at their captor. Silence hovered over the room for a moment like an oppressive shroud. The maul wielder turned his head to look at Astrid, calculating. Vasren tensed. He didn't like the look of this, he stood between them and their weapons.

The brute reached down suddenly and gripped Astrid's collar, lifting her bodily off the ground. She squirmed, but couldn't shake the brutes grip. He studied her intently, his eyes scanning her face, her wounds and the fear in her eyes.

"Let her go."

Vasren was standing now, fists clenched and eyes ablaze. The brute laughed, the action shaking Astrid around like a rag doll.

"Alright, whatever you say pal."

He threw Astrid sideways, to send her crashing against the wall. Vasren growled low in his throat. Then stiffened. Astrid was barely moving. Her arms and legs were strung through the wreckage, her chest rose and fell with juddering, labored breaths. His eyes widened in horror as they alighted on the twisted girder jutting from her stomach, blood gushing from the ugly hole through her abdomen. The maul wielder hesitated, shocked by what he had done. Vasren charged forwards, smashing the brute from his feet and retrieving testament. The brute rolled to his feet and swung his hammer at Vasren, the heavy blow more than capable of smashing Vasren's chest even through his seriously depleted aura. Vasren rolled underneath the blow and leapt upwards, testament slashing repeatedly across the brutes chest. The massive warrior staggered backwards, aura gone. Vasren roared with fury and drove testament straight through his chest, the twin blades emerging dripping from his back. Vasren pulled the trigger of his cannon, the heavy shell bursting through the rib cage of the brute and detonating inside his chest cavity.

"Burn in hell, murderer."

Vasren yanked his blade out of the corpse and ran over to Astrid. Astrid coughed and spluttered weakly. Vasren quickly assessed her wounds. The girder had pierced at least two major arteries, as well as tearing apart her digestive tract and rupturing her kidney. She would be dead in moments. Vasren fell to his knees, and held her close, sobbing uncontrollably. Astrid wheezed, blood leaking from the corner of her mouth and onto Vasren's coat. Astrid died against his chest. Vasren stood up, tears streaming down his face and blood coating his front. All his friends, the girl he loved. All of them. Dead. He picked up testament from where it lay at Astrid's feet.

He turned and walked out to the cockpit. The inside was a charnel house. The captain and his crew were all dead, a shell had punched straight through the side of the hull and fragmented, shredding the entire crew. Vasren walked up to the control panel and cracked his knuckles. Time to break some shit.

Vasren began randomly pulling levers and pressing buttons. Anything that looked important. The ship began to lurch and shudder in flight, it's six stabilizing fins thrown out of kilter. Vasren stepped behind the wheel of the ship and took a deep breath, steeling himself.

"Don't worry, Astrid. I'll see you soon."

Agony seared through him and he fell forwards,losing his grip on the wheel. His right arm was in agony. A large, razor sharp blade was embedded in his shoulder. Footsteps traveled towards him, though he was only dimly aware of it at this point. The halberdier from earlier pulled the blade out of Vasren's shoulder, causing the swordsman to scream in pain. The grim faced warrior gripped the halberd in both hands and raised it. Vasren kicked the wheel.

The ship lurched sideways, the motion throwing Vasren's assailant across the room to disappear out the shell hole. Vasren skidded slowly across the floor, pain dimming his vision almost as fast as blood loss. The wings, now completely out of kilter shook violently and one by one, were ripped from the airship by the air pressures. Without its primary source of lift the airship's nose began to droop, and it began to hurtle downwards in an uncontrollable dive. Vasren closed his eyes, and parted his lips, a single word escaping, drowned out by the scream of wind and tortured steel.

"Astrid..."


	2. Chapter 2, wind and lightning

**Thanks for all the support guys, it's really helped to see that people are both reading and enjoying my work. So now, it's time to introduce some new characters to the mix.**

**as always, have a pleasant read.**

Two months later...

Professor Ozpin walked towards the apartment block with something approaching worry. This potential huntsman would be a difficult case, even for him. Glynda was, as always a step behind him, omnipresent scroll in hand.

"Are you sure about this professor? The poor boy has gone through an awful lot lately, perhaps it would be better to wait a while before we talk to him."

"I am sure, if we leave it any longer he won't be of any use to anyone. despite what he has gone through, I believe we can help him."

Glynda made a disparaging noise.

"Now, Now Glynda, we need to approach this with the right attitude."

He pressed walked through the doors to the apartment building. The interior was pleasant, but slightly cold, clinical. Down the hall were a series of doors, clearly leading to the individual apartments. Glynda consulted her scroll and gestured down one of the halls. The two teachers walked quickly to the appropriate apartment.

Ozpin knocked on the door. However the door creaked open as he did so. He cast a glance at glynda then forged on inwards.

"Hello? Who's there?" The voice was strange, raspy and dry.

Ozpin called out a greeting.

"Come in, I'm in the main room."

The aforementioned room turned out to be almost totally dark, with only a single lamp casting illumination across a small coffee table, laden with empty mugs, books, plates and other various clutter. The rest of the room also seemed extremely messy, junk seeming to adorn every surface.

At the centre, arrayed around the coffee table were four armchairs. One was occupied, the figure seeming to blend into the background. He gestured the two teachers to sit, and Ozpin carefully lowered himself into an armchair directly opposite the figure. Glynda checked her seat first, then followed suit.

Ozpin cleared his throat, and leaned forwards, elbows on knees.

The figure spoke again.

"Sorry for the mess, unfortunately a haven't had much time or energy to clean, I'm still recovering."

Ozpin nodded. "Think nothing of it, I hardly travelled all this way to critique your living space, after all."

The figure chuckled. "With respect professor Ozpin, why are you here?"

Ozpin paused a moment. "Myself and professor goodwitch have come here today to follow up on your invitation to beacon, mr Corvus."

Vasren sighed and struggled upright. "Indeed, I thought you might have. Unfortunately I don't really see a way I can attend, not with the injuries I sustained."

Professor Ozpin nodded, unsurprised.

"That's a great shame, but what if I told you I had a friend who could, give back your missing arm and leg. What would you say then?"

Vasren leaned forwards, resting his single remaining arm on his only knee.

"Where do I meet this fellow?"

Two years later...

Electra fidgeted. Not out of nervousness, nor even from boredom, but simply because it gave her hands something to do. Tall, blank faced warehouses stood on either side of her, cast stark by the moonlight. She walked swiftly towards the docks, ignoring the oppressive darkness that seemed to cloak her. The moon bleached the landscape of all color, rendering the warehouses and crates around the dock in stark white and inscrutable black.

Electra's boots made a Rhythmic thud as the heavy footwear impacted the pavement. She veritably bounced along, not even phased by the ominous surroundings.

She paused suddenly, head cocked to one side and listening intently.

She laughed. "Alright guys, you can all come out now".

A group of shadowy figures emerged from among the scattered cargo containers. Electra grinned. This was going to be fun. The first figure stepped forwards. He was huge, six and a half feet tall at least, and seemingly just as broad. He carried a large, dangerous looking shotgun in his hands. Behind him another six figures were arrayed, carrying an assortment of crude weapons and firearms. The leader swaggered forwards, shotgun not even aimed at her.

"Alright, miss. We'll be taking your money about now." He cranked the pump of his shotgun for emphasis.

Electra had to crane her neck upwards to look him in the eyes. He had a deep scar bisecting hi nose, and wore a cocky, confident look. Why shouldn't he? He was a great hulking brute facing down a five foot tall girl, while backed up by six of his buddies. Electra almost felt sorry for him. This was going to be such an embarrassment.

She laughed suddenly, throwing her head back and shaking uncontrollably. The leader took a step back, suddenly nervous. Electra gasped for air and shook her head.

"You? Rob me? Do you have any idea how bad of an idea that is?"

The leader snarled and grabbed her throat. Electra smiled and activated her semblance.

She felt it all in a rush. Like a tingling that moved from her toes and up through her legs and across her chest to her fingertips. The thief suddenly narrowed his eyes. Electra discharged a massive bolt of electricity from her neck into his hand. His eyes widened and he jerked about like a fish on a line, muscles spamming uncontrollably. His goons charged her, damaged swords and clubs upraised. Electra gently removed the hand from her throat and reached behind her. She quickly found what she was looking for and slipped her hands into a pair of silver gauntlets. The first thug reached her and swung a rusty sword at her. She whipped her hands out and forwards, her bracer deflecting the strike. She pulsed electricity through into the sword, causing the thief to reel back in pain. She effortlessly dodged the next thug's club and clasped her hands on his arm, electrifying him. She leapt away as he fell to the ground twitching and dribbling. She flashed the remaining five thugs a savage smile. The first three charged her, clubs, axes and swords raised overhead. She whipped her hand to the side, unspooling five, thin wires from her fingertips. She slashed them across the first assailant, knocking him out instantly with a devastating bolt of close ranged lightning from the wires. The second swung down towards her head, only to hit the concrete pavement as she swayed sideways. She landed a flurry of rapid strikes to his side, making him collapse. The last barged straight into her. She smiled. The thug fell like a sack of bricks as hundreds of thousands of volts spread across his torso, paralyzing the muscles in his chest and back. The last two leveled pistols at her and opened fire. She spun between their arcs of fire, unspooling her wires as she did so. Quickly their poor accuracy and high rate of fire left them without bullets.

Perfect.

She rolled forwards, cracking her wires like a whip and latching them onto their guns. They too spasmed and collapsed as she sent electricity arcing across them. The last thugs toppled over as if their bones had been removed. Electra then dusted off her jacket and straightened her skirt. She flashed a mocking smile at the prone leader and walked off, a jaunty spring in her step.

She brushed a hand through her black, messy hair, tucking a stray, blue lock behind her ear. Almost to the docks, and from there, a whole new adventure. Almost to beacon.

Vasren shifted uncomfortably, it had been two years now since his injuries, and his arm and leg still pained him. The crowds weren't helping either. He hated crowds. They were hot, and noisy and uncomfortable and always wanted to talk to him. He pulled his hat more firmly down over his head, and straightened his black long-coat. The docks were a fairly typical example of such places. Several tall jetties formed neat slots for airships to land, and provided access to the flying behemoths.

Behind him milled the exited masses of the beacon freshman. A wonderful assortment of colorful characters and exotic weapons. People from all walks of life were gathered here. Fresh faced young warriors with shiny new weapons and polished combat gear. Some wore battered and scratched gear, and archaic weapons. He was somewhere in the middle. His combat gear was new. The coat reached his mid calf and was sewn full of removable ceramic plates. His sword was a modern design, but had seen plenty of use. He on the other hand, was about as battered as they get. He smirked at the thought.

He turned around to scan the assembled students. He shook his head ruefully. Some habits were hard to break. The assemblage was a deluge of color, each student dressed in their own unique combat gear. Everything from full suits of plate armor, leather gear cut for mobility, and even relatively commonplace clothing.

Their weapons were, if anything, even more diverse. Swords and other bladed weapons seemed most commonplace, though he also saw plenty of axes, mauls, and even some strange weapons, like whips, bayoneted sniper rifles and gauntlets with various claws and spikes. The one place he fit in, was with a bunch of other misfits.

He breathed in, filling his lungs through his nose, the frigid air carrying a complex mixture of scents. The chalky, almost saplike scent of dust. The oil on his combat gear. The sharp smell of metal. Ozone?

"Hands to yourself, bastard."

Vasren opened his eyes and whipped his head around. The sight that met his eyes brought a smile to his lips. A tall, slender young man with brown hair was writhing in the grip of an unlikely assailant. A short girl, perhaps five feet. with jaw length, messy black hair with blue streaks through it. She wore a short black and blue combat skirt, black leggings, a black and blue jacket over a black shirt. She had one hand clamped firmly around the throat of the unfortunate boy, lightning arcing across the poor fellow's armor. He gasped in pain, barely able to stay balanced on his knees, muscles contracting uncontrollably.

"What, can't speak? Perhaps you should just squirm then, like the pathetic little worm you are."

He choked out a sound of protest, something between a cough and a choke.

"Am I hurting you? Maybe that's because you thought you'd try for a grab, just 'cause I'm shorter than you. Well guess what buddy, you picked on the wrong girl."

She viciously pushed him backwards, smirking as she did so.

The boy sat up, one hand on his throat. He shot her a glare. The girl didn't seem phased however. She leaned down, her face inches from him and glared right back. He scrambled back and walked quickly to the other end of the dock.

Vasren chuckled, watching the unfortunate fellow nurse his wounded pride by the railing.

"Something funny?"

Vasren turned. The girl was standing square on to him, hands on hips and face a thundercloud. Vasren smiled. "Indeed, I was rather enjoying the show"

"Care for a repeat viewing?" She raised her hand, a little energy dancing at her fingertips.

Vasren laughed again and extended his hand.

"My name is Vasren, nice to meet you."

The girl seemed taken aback. "What?"

"Your supposed to shake it"

"I know that, idiot"

She dissipated the electricity and shook his proffered hand. She still seemed confused though. Strange.

"I'm Electra, strange to meet you."

Vasren cocked his head. "Electra huh, that's an unusual name."

"Coming from a guy named Vasren?"

"Fair play"

Electra smiled. That was a good sign. She stepped next to him, and looked towards the approaching airship. A relatively sleek, four finned design.

"Excited for beacon?" Vasren asked.

Electra smirked and cracked her knuckles. "You bet, it's gonna be the best thing that ever happened to me."

Vasren nodded, eyes thoughtful.

"What's with the face? Worried?"

Vasren shook himself slightly. "No, it's just..." He rubbed his forehead with one gloved hand. "It's just I really hate flying"

Electra laughed at him. "What? The big, scary Vasren is afraid of heights? Gimme a break."

Vasren sighed and straightened his coat. "I don't mind heights, it's just the airship I don't like".

Electra was still laughing. "Whatever, it's still funny."

Vasren bowed his head and walked onto the now docked airship.

"Yeah... Funny"

Beacon was a rather impressive building. It loomed imposingly in the distance, it's tall spires and sweeping arches dominating the skyline. Vasren leaned against the window of the airship uncomfortably, nausea bubbling in the pit of his stomach. He closed his eyes and sucked in a long breath, releasing it with a protracted hiss. Stomach calmed somewhat, he opened his eyes slowly.

"BOO"

Vasren stepped backwards involuntarily, tripping on the heel of his other boot and toppling backwards.

"Electra!"

The culprit grinned victoriously.

"Oh man you should have seen your face, that was priceless."

Vasren clambered back to his feet, disgruntled.

"Don't ever do that again"

Electra just grinned.

Vasren dusted off his coat and freed testament from its sheath, where it had been trapped behind him.

"That your weapon?"

Vasren looked at her and smiled. He swung testament in a quick swirling pattern.

"Indeed, this is testament. A double bladed sword with a heavy cannon between the aforementioned blades."

Electra looked almost disappointed. "What, is that it?"

Vasren looked at her, affronted.

"What do you mean 'is that it?' This sword has been with me for three years now, don't mock it."

Electra rolled her eyes. "So it doesn't transform? Or have a hidden function?"

"Well... No, not really"

"What about a cupholder?"

"What? Why would it have...? You know what, sod it, I don't even care anymore"

Electra put her hands on her hips, threw back her head and laughed, a great, raucous guffaw. Vasren just sighed and sheathed testament, feeling more than a little irritated.

"Alright, so what are your weapons then?"

Electra reached behind her and withdrew her hands, clad In a pair of silver gauntlets. Each glove was segmented, with the fingertips being almost claw like. The armor covered her entire forearm, and had a strange cylinder mounted underneath, just behind her wrist.

"Meet volts and bolts, the single most awesome weapons ever used by a person ever."

Vasren cast her a look that could have frozen a kettle full of molten lead.

"A pair of gauntlets... And you mocked my sword."

Electra whipped her hand towards him. Vasren stumbled backwards, lightning shocking him across the nose.

"Gauntlets with mounts for lightning dust cartridges, each equipped with five monofilament wires capable of conducting several hundred thousand volts each. You have my permission to faint in awe." She took a frankly silly boxing pose and blew a dramatic breath through her nose.

"Color me impressed, if it makes you feel better."

"You're even worse than I am"

Vasren sighed, utterly resigned at this point.

Thankfully they were interrupted by a broadcast from the window of the ship. An image wavered to life, a blonde woman wearing a purple cape and carrying a riding crop.

"Hello and welcome to beacon. My name is glynda goodwitch. You are among a privileged few who have been given the honor of being selected to attend this prestigious academy. Our world is experiencing an incredible time of peace, and, as future huntsmen and huntresses, it is your duty to uphold it. You have demonstrated the courage need for such a task. Now, it is our turn to provide you with the knowledge and the training to protect our world."

The image faded, to be replaced by a frankly stunning view of vale.

Vasren however turned around to sit on the bench, staring studiously at the floor.

"Not one for heights, huh?"

Vasren looked up. A tall, muscular boy with a pair of vicious sets of claws on his forearms stood there, hand proffered. Vasren shook it.

"No not really, I had a uh... Well I don't like airships."

The burly boy chuckled, his voice seemed strangely deep, almost guttural.

"Fair enough, the name is Malik by the by."

"Vasren, nice to meet you."

Electra was staring out the window, gloved hands on her hips. Malik turned and stared out the window as well.

Vasren sulked quietly for a second. He stood up abruptly and whirled about to face the window.

"Alright what's so damned interesting out there?"

The ground was rushing towards him, the airship smashed into the ground with a twisted, tortured scream. The cargo detonated thunderously and flame rushed past him to burst the front of the hull open like an egg. He was thrown forwards like a broken toy, burning dust residue coating him, lighting him up like a human candle.

"Vasren? You alright?"

Vasren blinked. He was stood stock still, sweat beading on his brow and face even paler than usual. His left arm was clamped firmly on his right shoulder and his right fist was clenched hard enough for his leather gloves to squeak.

"It's nothing, just, bad memories."

Electra made a dismissive snort and turned back to the window. Malik looked slightly concerned, but turned back to the window as well. Vasren looked back out the window, swallowing the lump in his throat.

The docks loomed below them, and beyond that, sprawled atop the cliffs, was beacon itself.

Vasren's heart beat a little faster. He was here.


	3. Chapter 3, new beginnings

**Hello, readers. This is inquisitor ryke, back again with VENM. This will be a slightly shorter chapter, but don't fret, I'm almost finished with a significantly longer one, which will be out soon. Don't forget to leave a review with any ideas or criticism.**

**as always, have a pleasant read.**

Vasren walked out onto the docks, coat swishing around his ankles, wide brimmed hat pulled down over his eyes. He blew a lock of jet black hair out of his eyes, the deep violet iris now unobstructed. He glanced behind him, where Electra and Malik were exiting as well. They made an odd pair. The short, fiery, pale skinned Electra, and the tall, burly, olive skinned Malik. They walked towards him, irritatingly slowly. He tapped his foot in impatience. Electra moved to walk on his right, Malik stepping to his left. He spun on his heel and began to walk with them.

"So, glad to be off the ship?"

Vasren turned to his left.

"Yeah, though I must say. The ride was less, eventful than my last."

Malik raised an eyebrow, but didn't pry. Electra on the other hand, was not so polite.

"So what happened last time?"

Vasren's eyes narrowed.

"Nothing I'm going to talk about."

"Why?"

"None of your concern"

Now it was Electra's turn to narrow her eyes.

"Whaddaya mean none of my concern?"

Malik stepped between them, and placed a placating hand on Electra's shoulder.

"It's fine, I'm sure it's - OW!"

He yanked his hand back, and inspected it carefully for damage.

"Hands to yourself, mister."

She walked off, head back haughtily and a cocky strut in her stride.

Malik turned to Vasren. "What's with her?"

Vasren sighed and scratched the back of his head. "Who knows?"

They both walked along with the other students towards the main building.

The main hall filled quickly, the first year students filing in and standing in groups, or alone. There was no semblance of order, or organization. How annoying. Vasren and Malik stepped into the hall and looked around. Electra was leaning against a wall, staring daggers at anyone foolish enough to come close. Vasren nodded to Malik and they walked over towards her, though Malik seemed slightly apprehensive.

Vasren stepped next to her, arms clapped behind his back and armored coat hanging loose. Electra studiously avoided looking at him, keeping her eyes firmly on the crowd. Malik made sure to keep Vasren between him and Electra. Though Vasren noticed him glancing at her constantly.

Vasren cast a look at her himself, curious as to what Malik was staring at. She wasn't seemingly paying them any attention, instead staring out across the hall. She was actually quite pretty he decided. Granted he wouldn't have labeled her as any great beauty or anything, but she was certainly very pretty.

Electra cast them a sidelong glance, sapphire blue eyes calculating.

Vasren and Malik snapped to attention almost simultaneously. Electra smiled, an evil glint in her eyes, but seemed to preen slightly.

The microphone at the front made a piercing, high pitched bleep, turning heads in it's direction.

"I'll... Keep this brief. You have travelled here today in search of knowledge, to hone your craft and aquire new skills, and when you have finished, you plan to dedicate your life to the protection of the people".

Around the room heads nodded and eyes were captivated by the headmaster, he was speaking their dreams, vocalizing their goals.

"But I look amongst you and all I see is wasted energy, in need of purpose, direction. You assume knowledge will free you of this, but your time at this school will prove that knowledge will only carry you so far. It is up to you to take the first step."

Vasren cocked his head. Ozpin had seemed strange, not at all like the man who had come to visit him.

Professor goodwitch stepped up to the microphone and issued her own instructions.

Vasren turned to Malik, who shrugged indifferently.

About an hour later the ballroom was a bustle of activity, bedrolls were laid out all over the floor in what might have once been ordered rows. However groups of students had dragged bedrolls around in order to be near their friends, and others, like Vasren had distanced themselves from the main group.

Vasren tucked his blanket neatly across his bedroll, the fabric taut enough to bounce a penny off of. Malik stepped up behind him, dragging his bedroll. He set it up close by, but thankfully maintained a respectful distance. He then stripped off his leather combat gear, the supple armor tucked neatly by his bed. Beneath that he wore a brown vest, showing off his muscles to a degree Vasren found excessive. Vasren started a little. As Malik removed his gloves his handstand forearms were made visible. His hands were adorned with vicious claws, and his forearms had an abnormal amount of golden brown hair.

"You're a Faunus?"

Malik turned slightly. "Yeah, a lion. What gave it away? The fur, the claws or the eyes?"

Vasren cocked his head. Now that he mentioned it, Malik's pupils were indeed vertical slits, rather than the circles of normal eyes.

"The claws, if I'm honest."

Malik smirked. "That's one piece of me I'm very glad to have, help me out in quite few scuffles."

He clenched his fist, the skin on his arms shifting across his muscles, the light picking out a patchwork of scars across the limb.

"Been in your fair share I bet."

Malik laughed. "More than I care to admit, some people pick on me because I'm Faunus, some because I'm a big guy, and they seem to want to prove they're bigger. So yeah, I'm a pretty good brawler. How about you?"

Vasren stiffened visibly. "I've been fighting since I was thirteen, I was fourteen when I learned swordsmanship. I've fought for money, freedom, and survival. So yes, I've had more than my fair share of scrapes."

Malik cocked his head curiously, but didn't pry.

Vasren looked out across the hall. Most students were already bedding down, and lights were dimming all across the hall.

Vasren turned and lifted the blanket on his bedroll slipping beneath it and turning over. Behind him he heard Malik doing the same.

He closed his eyes. Tomorrow would be interesting.

Vasren woke slowly, sleep clinging to him. He gradually regained his senses. First was touch, the sensation of the blanket he had used, now pulled mostly away, only covering his legs. Next was taste, the unpleasant, dry taste of a night with his mouth open. Next was hearing, the sounds of the students waking up one by one. Next was smell. The smell of the room, the smell of the students all packed together. But overpowering it all, was the unmistakable stench of ozone.

"OW"

Vasren sat bolt upright, searing pain spreading across his chest and down his arms. His eyes snapped open, returning his sight. The first thing he saw however, did not please him. Electra was stood there, lightning arcing from between her thumb and index finger. Vasren leveled her a glare that could have melted steel. Once again however, Electra was unperturbed. Vasren rolled over and stood up, stretching the stiffness from his joints.

He turned back just in time to see a pair of crackling fists flying towards his head. He crouched, the electrified hands clapping together above his head, the discharge making his hair stand on end. Subconsciously he reached up and gripped Electra by the forearm and throat, pivoting his torso and flipping her on her back. The diminutive girl hit the ground hard, the breath whooshing from her lungs. Vasren stood up.

"Don't ever do that again"

Electra scowled. Vasren pulled his coat up from the floor, the long sides stiff with ceramic armor. Pulling the cumbersome thing on he walked towards the lockers, still nursing the electrical burn on his forehead.

Malik was already in the locker room, combat gear adorned with various knives, bullets, explosives and other equipment. On his forearms were a pair of bracers, the solid metal gleaming like burnished copper. Mounted on each bracer were a pair of blades, single edged and wickedly sharp. The blades were curved forwards, and were a silvery grey. At the base of the blades was a mechanism clearly designed to fold the blade from their position on his forearms to extend out past his hand.

Vasren nodded a greeting, moving to open his own locker, situated just opposite. He drew testament from the locker, still sheathed. He then strapped on a baldric over his coat, and then slung the scabbard across his back. Testament's long blades reached all the way down his back, and well past his waist.

Lastly he pulled on his hat, a wide brimmed affair with three rough points.

He turned around to see Malik standing there, still secreting stuff in his pockets. Vasren walked past him.

"See you there"

Malik grunted, still stuffing things in the loops across his chest.


	4. Chapter 4, will of iron

**Hello readers.**

**sorry for the long wait but I've been busy and rather stressed recently**

**but this chapter is a pretty long one**

**as always, have a pleasant read.**

The cliff top was quite pretty, the air was crisp, and crystal clear. Below them stretched a rolling green forest, the treetops melding together to form a seamless canopy. Occasionally, scars could be seen in the tree line, areas of broken, burned or toppled trees. Obviously this place had been used for initiations before.

Vasren stood, shoulder to shoulder with the other students from his freshman class. He couldn't see Electra or Malik anywhere, probably further down the line. Vasren tilted his head back and sucked in a breath, filling his lungs with the crystalline air.

He smelled the trees, the wind, the scent of fresh rain. He blew the breath back out and lowered his head, smiling. It had been a long time since he had been in any real combat, two years in fact. He was looking forward to it greatly.

Ozpin and Glenda goodwitch stepped out onto the cliff top, ozpin's omnipresent coffee steaming gently. Glynda was tapping away at her scroll, as always. Vasren adjusted his baldric, making sure testament was within easy reach.

He heard a clank to his left and turned slightly. A student was stepping onto the plate next to him. She was tall, for a girl at perhaps five foot eleven. It was hard to tell with all the armor she was wearing. In her left hand she carried an enormous kit shield, heavily embellished with ridges and spikes running through and across it. Her armor was much the same, and gave a spiked, angular appearance, like Rays of light. In her right hand she carried a long golden sword, the blade shining silver at the beveled edge. Her helmet was open faced, the bronze plates hugging her head.

Vasren looked back out to the cliff.

Ozpin was issuing instructions, Vasren skimmed through it mentally, picking out and storing the important details.

Relics, Grimm in the woods, destroy everything, risk of death. He smirked. Same old same old. Professor goodwitch stepped up next, scroll in hand and also began to speak. Something about teams, rumors. Now ozpin was talking about eye contact and four years and there was some girls down the line a ways screaming about it.

He shrugged and assumed a ready stance, hand on testament's hilt, legs bent and left arm out to the side for balance. The plate beneath his feet seemed to explode upwards, launching him bodily into the air, arcing over the forest.

Vasren's coat flapped behind him, a pair of sinister black wings. As he reached the apex of his flight he unlimbered testament and drew his limbs into a skydiver's X. He began to fall. The wind rushed past his ears, blotting out all sound. The gusts tugged at his clothing like a thousand tiny hands. Vasren quickly assessed his options.

He was at a height of roughly three hundred feet, at standard rate of fall he would have only seconds to slow himself down to a non lethal velocity. While his cannon would have packed a fierce kick, the shock absorbers he had installed nullified its usefulness in this scenario. The trees could break his fall if he played it right, perhaps he could swing through the branches, arrest his speed that way.

This was going to hurt.

He fell. The wind was a screaming gale now, a hundred shrieking voices in his ear. He drew de stamens back, ready for a swing. The canopy was racing towards him, the branches swinging madly. Vasren fired testament into the foliage. It slowed him a little, after all, not even his shock absorbers could nullify a fifteen millimeter cannon. He hacked downwards with his blade, the edge biting deep into one of the boughs of the trees, he swung his legs forward, the coat, with its heavy ceramic armor plates aiding the swing.

He crashed through the leaves, still traveling fast. Too fast. Fast enough to almost completely deplete his aura with an impact. If he was lucky. He burst from the trees, into a clearing, littered with old, burned tree stumps. Ahead of him he caught a flash of gold. He suddenly slowed. It felt like he had crashed into a brick wall. His body decelerated rapidly, throwing his limbs forwards and jarring him. He hit the ground and rolled, several ceramic plates fracturing under the strain. He collapsed and rolled a good eight feet, breathing hard. He was staring up at the sky, one of the few clear patches in the forest he imagined.

Suddenly the light was blocked out above him. He blinked blearily. He made out a hand, reaching down to him. Slim, pale skin, female, calloused. He glanced up further and saw the face of the girls who had been next to him on the cliff top. He grasped the proffered hand and she hauled him to his feet.

He rubbed his head and squinted at her, sunlight reflecting from her shield and glaring into his eyes.

"You alright there?"

Vasren straightened and checked himself. There were no injuries, although several plates on his back were shattered from the impact. He turned and looked at the girl.

She was definitely the one who had been next to him, but now he caught a good look at her. She was really, very pretty. She had even, smooth features and flawless, slightly golden skin. From the back of her helmet waves of hair the color of burnished copper spilled out.

"Fine, thanks to you"

She smiled and shrugged.

"I'm Vasren, by the by"

"Nerada"

Vasren chuckled, earning a quizzical look from nerada.

"What is it with me and meeting people with unusual names?"

She smiled, and raised one eyebrow.

Vasren retrieved testament from where it lay, and checked the mechanism of the cannon. All in place.

Nerada gestured towards the forest. "Come on, let's get going"

Vasren nodded and strode off into the foliage, nerada just a step behind.

Malik prowled through the undergrowth, stance wide and low, senses extended outwards. The forest was peaceful, for the most part, although that would soon change. In the distance he could hear gunfire, explosions, screams and calls. The sounds of combat. He could smell the foul, brackish odor of recently slain Grimm.

He continued forwards, effortlessly blending in with the undergrowth, brown leather armor flexing and squeaking as he moved. His claws sat folded on his forearms, the viciously curved blades gleaming dully.

Ahead of him was a clearing, littered with broken, smoldering tree stumps and pieces of slowly dissolving Grimm. He smirked and dashed across the open, moving quickly from tree trunk to tree trunk.

He continued this way for several minutes, cloaked by the forest, surrounded by the sounds of fighting.

He stopped suddenly in a bush, four huge beowolves were hunkered down in a clearing, snuffling the ground. He grinned, unfolding his claws and gripping a huge combat knife. He tamped down and readied himself to spring from the brush, heart beating faster and adrenaline flooding his system.

Suddenly one of the beowolves let out a piercing howl, arcing backwards, smoke boiling from its eyes and mouth. It slumped over and fell on its back, revealing it assailant. A short girl, with messy black and blue hair and heavy leather boots that reached halfway up her shins. Lightning danced between her fingertips, and seemed to shine behind her eyes. She wore a cocky grin, a sleeveless jacket, top, and combat skirt with leggings.

Malik smiled. Electra.

The other three beowolves charged her. She grinned and ran towards them, lightning arcing from her fingers to play against the ground, setting fire to fallen twigs and leaves. She spun as they got close, the lightning bolts wreathing her form. She whipped one hand out, the electrified wires raking across the front of the Grimm. It was thrown backwards as if punched by a giant, tumbling end over end to crash down near Malik, tongue lolling from its mouth and smoke beginning to rise from its body. The second made a swipe at her, but was clearly unused to combatants so small, and the strike went wide. She clasped the arm of the beast with both hands, electricity searing across the contact, cooking the Grimm alive as its blood boiled and evaporated. The third reared up, claws raised for a powerful strike.

Malik exploded from the bushes, rugby tackling the huge Grimm, and toppling it onto its back. He pulled back his arms, claws snapping downwards over his hands. Before the beowolf could so much as howl in protest Malik was on him, claws ripping into its chest, throat and face as Malik slashed and stabbed and hacked the Grimm apart. Within only a few seconds the beowolf was a tattered mess of brackish blood and foul smoke.

Malik stood, breathing deeply and grinning from ear to ear. He turned and locked eyes with Electra, who was looking right at him, eyebrows raised. He nodded a greeting and sheathed his claws. Electra rolled her eyes and marched off through the woods, Malik right on her heels.

Nerada pushed her way through the forest, her shield smashing aside anything from an irritating patch of brambles to small saplings, seemingly without any effort. Vasren walked close behind her, sword drawn and held low to one side. The forest was alive with sound, the rustle of leaves, the crackle and boom of gunfire, the shouts and calls of combat. Vasren checked the cannon in his sword for the twentieth time, sliding the bolt back and re cocking the hammer with one hand, while he scanned through the trees.

He had missed this. The feeling of combat, of being on the run, of fighting for your very survival. His heart beat a staccato in his chest, his eyes darted through the woods, his ears twitched at every sound, hands tight on the hilt of his sword. It had been far, far too long.

Nerada pushed a bush out the way, flattening it with a nonchalant bat of her monstrous shield. Beyond was a large, open clearing. In fact it was almost large enough to call a field. Scattered about was the detritus of battle. Empty shell casings, scorch marks and churned earth littered the area. Off to one side was a large line of nevermore feathers and a rapidly expanding puddle of water. Off to another was the still dissolving remains of a king taitju. Vasren blew a breath out through his nose, spinning in a slow circle to survey the area.

Ahead of them was the temple, a low, circular structure composed of a circular floor, surrounded by broken pillars, some of which still stubbornly held up a curved section of roof. Moss and ivy clung to the stones, as trying to pull the structure beneath the earth. Around the circumference were a series of pedestals. Resting on each one was a chess piece, two of each kind of piece, one black and one white. Nerada strode forwards sunlight splintering and scattering from her bronze armor and coppery hair.

Vasren walked onto the floor of the temple, looking around.

"So... Which one do you want?" Asked nerada.

Vasren turned to look at her, she was gesturing to the pieces.

Vasren shrugged "something in black, black is my color"

She smiled and selected a black rook from a pedestal.

"Oi, save some for us!"

Vasren turned to see Electra and Malik walking towards them, Electra with a jaunty stride, Malik with a subtle prowl. He rolled his eyes and relaxed his stance.

"Don't worry, there are plenty to go around."

Electra walked past him and stepped into the middle of the temple area.

"Chess pieces? Really? I was expecting something more interesting, like, I dunno daggers maybe, or shields, or something"

Nerada glanced at Vasren, eyebrow raised.

Vasren shrugged helplessly.

Electra grabbed a black rook in her fist and shoved it deep in her jacket pocket, before spinning on her heel. She whistled and stuck her thumbs in the waistband of her skirt, tapping her foot.

"So, what now?"

She cast a look back and forth over the other three students, eyes expectant.

Nerada glanced around, then cast her eyes heavenward.

"The cliff, we go back to the cliff."

Vasren nodded. "Indeed, that was the brief, we should stick together, strength in numbers after all."

Electra huffed and strode towards the forest, the other three walking alongside her.

Vasren moved forwards and to the center of the group, he seemed to exude confidence.

"Electra, move to the far left side, Malik the far right, Nerada stick with me in the centre, and spread out."

Nerada and Malik both nodded and followed his instructions, Electra however immediately bristled.

"Why?"

Vasren seemed shocked. "What do you mean why?"

"Why do what you say? Who put you in charge?"

Vasren sighed, exasperated.

"Because the formation makes sense, both you and Malik are better at attacking a single Grimm at a time, so you go on the flanks, where there will be less Grimm, myself and Nerada will stand in the middle, as our better defensive aptitude will pay off more."

Electra grumbled, but shuffled off to the side of the group.

Vasren rolled his shoulders and held testament at the ready. On either side of him his companions did the same. Nerada readied her sword and shield, Electra summoned her lighting, Malik unfolded his claws, Astrid twirled her butterfly swords and flashed him a dazzling smile. Vasren shook his head. Astrid was dead, she had been dead for two years. But damn this brought back memories.

The four set off through the forest, holding their formation, eyes and ears straining for any sign of Grimm.

They didn't have long to wait.

They were at the base of the cliff, but ahead of them was a problem. About twenty problems to be exact. Within the cliff face was a large rockfall, one of the few passable places up the precipice. Fresh scuff marks on the rock indicated that several students had already scaled the cliff here. That and the large group of Grimm milling about the base.

Vasren and Nerada hunkered down in a nearby bush, observing the Grimm. There were a dozen or so beowolves, with one large alpha. A single Ursa Major, with another six smaller Ursa. And a single, monstrous king taijitu.

Vasren blew a long breath through his nose. Nerada turned to face him.

"Ready?"

Vasren grinned and chambered a round.

Nerada and Vasren burst from the brush side by side, swords drawn and shoulders down. The first beowolf was claimed by Vasren, huge cannon shells tearing through it like it was made of wet paper. The second leaped on Nerada, who slammed into it headlong, the beowolf smashed into her shield, it's momentum instantly stopped. Nerada drove her sword forwards and gutted it, tossing the carcass away like trash.

Vasren clove through another, testament hewing through its upraised arm and burying itself in the Grimm's skull. He then turned around, slashing easily through the rib cage of a second Grimm. Nerada was on his immediate right, beating away a pair of beowolves with her shield, before coring out the skull of one of them with her sword, and smashing the skull of the second with the edge of her shield.

At the edge of the clearing, the larger Grimm were making their way around the melee in the center. The Ursa Major however, cocked its head to the side sniffing the air. It's primitive brain picked up a new smell, the pungent stench of ozone. Electra burst from the forest, her wires burning with barely suppressed power, arcs of lightning leaping between them. The Ursa swiped at her, only to hit air as she easily ducked the strike. She whipped herself around, drawing lightning dust from within her gauntlets. Arcs of pure energy leaped between her hands, focussed on her palms. The electricity buzzed like a swarm of insects, and the air seemed to ripple like water. She spun and cast her palms forwards, the bolts leaping towards the Ursa. The Lightning played over the Ursa's skin, discharging all the power of a thunderstorm across its chest, boiling its blood and cooking its internal organs. The Ursa fell backwards, smoke and fluids streaming from its mouth.

On the other side the fight, the alpha beowolf loped around the flank, giant spines jutting upwards from its back and arms. It's baleful red eyes tracked Vasren and Nerada as they mercilessly hacked through its smaller kin. The creature tamped down and readied itself to spring to the attack. Malik however, was faster. He leapt from the undergrowth, before tackling the monstrous wolf to the floor, claws sunk in it chest and throat. As they both landed he came face to face with the Grimm. He snarled at it and proceeded to pull his claws from its chest, blood and smoke leaking from the wound. His claws ripped the prone creature apart, effortlessly parting muscle and bone, laying open the beast to the air.

He stood up and turned back into the fight, adrenaline surging through his veins. Vasren and Nerada were steadily advancing, scores of beowolves and Ursa dissolving behind them. Electra was cracking her wires at the taijitu, but the massive creature was moving too quickly for her to put in a sustained burst.

Vasren dismembered the last Grimm, it's head and limbs thumping to the floor. Nerada pushed a beowolf off her sword with her shield, before turning to face the huge taijitu in front of them. The two headed Grimm snake hissed menacingly at them Vasren and the others regrouped. Vasren swung testament in a lazy arc, flicking the last remnants of Grimm blood from his blade. He analyzed the situation, breaking down the problem from every angle, cataloging his strengths, weaknesses and flexibilities.

Vasren took up a fighting stance, his twinned blades pointing towards the head of the snake.

"Nerada, with me to distract its heads from the front, Malik, go for the eyes, try to keep it still long enough for Electra to finish it."

He turned to fix Electra with his deep, mournful violet eyes.

"You are to hang back until I tell you otherwise, am I understood?"

Electra nodded, though she seemed uncomfortable.

Vasren leapt forwards, his sword trailing behind him. Nerada and Vasren followed close behind, flanking him. Electra ran around the side, huge arcs of lightning beginning to coalesce around her hands.

The snake lunged at Vasren, jaws agape. Vasren spun sideways, raking his sword across the side of the Grimm's head, splitting the scales with ease. The black head reared back, foul blood gushing from its wound. The white head shot forwards, streaking towards Nerada. The knight reversed her grip on her sword and punched the back of her shield. Golden light raced through the shield, glowing through the metal and focussing in the centre. This whole process lasted a split second. The light exploded forwards, forming a rough domed shape that raced towards the serpent. The energy detonated on its head, the strength of the blast stopping it dead. The Grimm reeled back, stunned. Malik leaped on the white head as it withdrew, sinking his claws into the base of it's head, and clinging on for dear life as it began to thrash in agony. Vasren took all this in in an instant, and adapted his tactics accordingly. He sprinted for the other head, sword raised.

"ELECTRA, NOW!"

The slight girl raced forwards, lighting wreathing her entire figure. Vasren fired point blank into the snake's face, high explosive shells coring out one eye and forcing the monster back. Electra leapt for the snake, sinking the sharpened tips of her gauntlets into the skin of the monster. The instant they pierced the skin, Electra gave it everything she had. Hundreds of thousands of volts of electricity spread through the Grimm, the arcs clearly visible on the surface of it's skin. It's brackish blood boiled and vaporized, belching from both its mouths in a foul smelling cloud. The brains and muscles of the snake collapsed in upon themselves, the weight crumbling the charred bones. The mighty Grimm slumped to the ground, collapsing in upon itself.

Electra pulled her claws out of the charred carcass, and stepped away, breathing hard. She turned to Vasren and Nerada, who looked at her with respect and awe, respectively. She smiled her cocky smile, then keeled over backwards, her vision going dark.

Vasren shook his head and walked over to her, sheathing testament. He effortlessly picked her up, slinging the short girl unceremoniously oner one shoulder, before turning to regard the rockfall. He motioned towards it, and began his ascent.


	5. Chapter 5, shadowed petals

**Hello readers, this is inquisitor ryke. I hope you enjoy the latest installment of VENM.**

**have a pleasant read.**

Vasren stood at attention on the stage. Well, as close as he had ever bothered to. Any real soldier would have pointed out the position of his hands, too slack at his sides, palms open. His back was straight, but his legs were slightly bent, and his head was bowed slightly. Testament was slung across his back, the massive sword seeming not to trouble him, despite its prodigious weight. To his right stood Electra, Nerada and Malik, each standing straight and tall. Or at least, Electra tried to look tall, though the effect fell short when standing between two people who towered over her.

Vasren made sure to maintain the position of his head, ensuring that his wide brimmed hat shaded his eyes, stopping the lights from causing him any unnecessary pain.

Ozpin stood at centre stage, cane in one hand, the other gesturing to the huge screens above them.

"Vasren Corvus, Electra Alvarez, Nerada Umbra And Malik Ferus, your four retrieved the black rook pieces. From this day forwards you will work together as, team Venom."

The first letter of each of their names formed the acronym VENM.

"Led by, Vasren Corvus."

Vasren inclined his head, before turning an abrupt about face and striding off the stage. The rest of the newly formed team VENM followed him.

Their dorms were a joke, in Vasren's opinion. The room was too small, only able to barely fit four beds, and the decor was irritating. Red and white, why not black and blue, or blue and grey, or black and white, or green? He sighed. He hated red.

The others filed in behind him, looking over the dorm with him. Malik made an inscrutable noise in the back of his throat, and moved to occupy the bed closest to the wall, on the left hand side. Vasren removed his weapons harness and propped it up next to his bedside table. The day was beginning to wear on him, and his arms felt like lead pipes.

Nerada had occupied the bunk closest to the door, while Electra's bed was adjacent to the bathroom.

Vasren removed his hat and peeled off his greatcoat, the armored garment falling to the floor with a grinding clatter. He ran a hand through his hair, raking the jet black locks out of his face. Without further ado he fell backwards onto his bed, left arm over his eyes.

Electra snickered, and walked over to the bathroom, a bundle of extra clothing in her arms. Nerada looked about, and began to remove her armor. First she removed the angular pauldrons, followed by her bracers, and gauntlets. Vasren watched out of idle curiosity, barely able to stay awake. Nerada reached to her waist and undid her buckle, removing the armored skirt she wore, the heavy piece composed of several, long overlapping plates that reached her knees. Her greaves came next, followed by the steel plates boots she wore. Next she removed her helmet, allowing her coppery hair to spill down her back in luxurious waves. She unhooked her deep red cape from her shoulders, neatly folding the piece and laying it on her covers. Finally she reached around behind her back to unfasten her breastplate, fingers working at the clasp. She sighed in frustration, the clasp was stuck. She turned to look at Vasren, who was quickly falling asleep.

"Hey, Vasren. Little help?"

Vasren nodded and stood up, straightening his black shirt. Nerada gestured to the clasps on her breastplate, and Vasren nodded, working at the stubborn fastenings.

"Thanks, this armor can be a pain to get on and off on my own."

Vasren smiled. "Why do you wear it then? If it's so difficult."

Nerada laughed. "It's saved my life more times than I can count, that's why."

"Fair enough, Nerada."

"Nera, please."

Vasren nodded. "Alright Nera."

The last clasp came undone, the armor plate falling from Nerada's front with a clatter. Nerada sighed in relief and picked up the item. It was beautifully crafted. It was a deep, bronze color, with a brighter, coppery trim and angular embellishments across the front. Nerada placed it down next to the rest of her armor and sat down on her bed, directly opposite Vasren. Without her armor, or the fear of immanent death, Vasren was finally able to get a good look at her.

She was quite tall for a girl, standing at about five foot nine or ten. She had bright, vibrant golden eyes set in a heart shaped face with delicate features. Her skin was a smooth, pale tone, like milk mixed with just a little honey.

Vasren caught himself staring, luckily before she did. Or at least he hoped so. He lay on his bed, arms crossed behind his head. He closed his eyes and promptly fell asleep.

This time, Vasren did not make the mistake of waking up slowly, and only got up after making sure he couldn't smell even a hint of ozone. He sat up, blinking the sleep from his eyes. The dorm was quiet, except for Malik snoring of course. Vasren swung his legs over the side of the bed and yawned. He glanced at the clock. 9:27. Still a good half hour until combat class then. He stretched and scratched his head.

Other than himself, only Nerada, no Nera was awake. Malik was curled up amidst his rumpled covers, while Electra was sleeping peacefully. Vasren cocked his head. She was really very pretty when she was asleep. All the taut, mocking lines were gone from her face, and she seemed relaxed, serene. Nera was busy donning her armor, the plates clipping easily to the dark jumpsuit she wore beneath it. Now that he thought about it, Nerada was very pretty as well. Except she gave off a different kind of presence, more discerning, calmer. He put such thought out of his mind for now. He had more immediate concerns. And unpleasant memories.

He picked up his trench coat, inspecting it. The tough fabric was still completely intact, not even a scratch or fray in the material. The ceramic plates inside however, were a different story. Each plate was sewn into a large, patchwork quilt like affair, attached to the lining of the coat. Each of the plates was designed to shatter on impact, effectively negating the force of a blow. However, after each fight they had to be replaced. It was a new system he was trialling at beacon, though he wasn't sure the extra weight was worth it.

He put the coat on, it's reassuring weight settling on his shoulders. Next he drew testament from his scabbard. He smiled. This sword was his masterwork. He popped open the maintenance plate for the cannon's firing mechanism. Withdrawing a set of cleaning tools he set to work. The cannon was a long barreled fifteen millimeter gun. The thing had enough sheer power to punch a hole through an Ursa's skull, or load explosive shells that could tear apart unarmored Grimm like beowolves in a single shot.

Satisfied with the mechanism he hefted the blades and checked the edges for any sign of chipping or dulling. As expected, none presented themselves.

He slid the blade back into his scabbard, before belting it across his back.

He stood up, stretching again. Nera had just finished putting her armor on, and retrieved her shield from the floor. Vasren nodded a greeting.

Nera smiled. "Ready for combat class?"

Vasren nodded, one hand absently going for the hilt of his sword. "It's been a while since I last fought anyone, but I'm a lot stronger than I once was."

Nera raised an eyebrow, "I look forwards to seeing you back up your boasting."

Vasren shook his head ruefully, he had been boasting a bit hadn't he?

A groan sounded out from Malik's direction. Vasren turned halfway, just in time to see his teammate tumble from his bed, crashing to the ground in a heap. The sound woke up Electra, who let loose and honest to dust snarl, before sitting up in her bed, eyes shooting daggers at the room's other occupants. Nerada and Vasren both stared at her, while Malik was still on the floor.

"What is it? Why are you staring at me?"

Electra looked down at herself, suddenly realizing that she was only wearing her underwear. She looked upwards, azure eyes ablaze.

"Stop. Staring. At. Me"

Nerada laughed, her armored skirt rattling with the motion. "Why are you complaining? You're the one flaunting".

Electra growled low in her throat, lightning starting to spark in her hair.

Nerada was still laughing uncontrollably. "It's alright Electra, having small boobs is a perfectly normal thing, no need to get so mad about it."

"OUT, NOW" screamed Electra, the air around her buzzing like a swarm of furious insects.

Vasren and Nerada walked out the door, Nerada still laughing, while Vasren smiled.

The dueling room was a large, well appointed space, with rising, tiered stands surrounding the round dueling floor. Vasren stepped inside, and looked around the place. He instantly felt at home. Nerada walked in as well, turning in a slow circle, observing the room.

Only a few other people were in the class so far, and were sitting in huddles, quietly conversing. Vasren took a seat near the front, Nerada sliding in next to him. She placed her shield in front of her, and leaned on it.

Vasren looked around, carefully taking inventory of the room's occupants. Nerada was quick to notice.

"What are you doing?"

Vasren laughed and leaned back, arms crossed behind his head.

"Indulging in old habits, I was trying to figure out how each person in here fights."

Nerada seemed interested. "Oh? So how is that done?"

Vasren glanced at her then sat forwards, elbows on knees. "Well, the first big giveaway is the weapon each person carries. For example, that girl in the whit dress, she carries a rapier, so it's pretty clear she fights with speed, not strength. And if you look a little closer, her rapier has a revolving dust cartridge at the base of the blade. So she is likely to be a fast, agile fighter who uses a lot of dust, and likely semblance based attacks."

Nerada nodded, impressed. "So what about that guy over there?"

Vasren looked towards the indicated student.

"Well, his weapon says it all. He fights with a maul, so he will focus on strength, and likely durability. Not a huge threat to me"

"Is being cocky a special talent of yours?"

"It's not arrogance, it's a logical, cold analysis of the situation."

"Yep, definitely a special talent of yours"

Vasren shrugged. "Just wait, you'll see what I mean."

Students continued to file in, sitting in their teams for the most part. Electra and Malik sat next to Nerada, though Electra was still giving off sparks from her hair and fingertips.

On the floor below, professor goodwitch stepped forwards, scroll in hand. The chatter about the room quieted down, each student granting the professor their full attention.

She looked up and surveyed the class.

"Welcome to combat lessons. As you are all well aware, we only accept the finest combatants into this academy, however, we still strive to improve the skill of every aspiring huntsman and huntress to walk through our doors."

She gestured to the dueling floor. "This is the stage where we will host our combat lessons. Each lesson we will host a series of sparring matches between randomly selected students. The only exception to this will be direct challenges, either between students or whole teams."

The professor tapped her scroll, and the banners on either side of the combat area began to rapidly flick through pictures of all the students in the class.

The left hand banner settled on a picture first. It depicted a pale skinned, dark haired young man with deep violet eyes.

Nerada nudged Vasren with her elbow. "Looks like you'll be putting your boasting to the test after all"

Vasren nodded. "Seems so. Though I'm a little rusty"

He grinned, apparently finding the comment far funnier than it actually was.

The picture on the right settled on a picture of a huntress with short black hair with red tips and wide, earnest silver eyes.

Vasren glanced over at his opponent. She sat nearby, next to a taller blond girl and a girl with long black hair. She herself was short, only marginally taller than Electra. She wore a black combat skirt and corset, with a long red cape and hood.

Professor goodwitch called out.

"Our first match will be: Vasren Corvus, versus Ruby Rose."

Vasren stood up, rolling his shoulders.

His opponent stood as well, and made her way down to the floor, picking her way over to the stairs. Vasren decided on a more direct route. He bent his legs and leapt over the railing, landing on the arena floor opposite Ruby. He reached behind him and drew testament, the smokey grey blades glinting in the harsh light of the room. Ruby Rose unfolded a massive scythe, it's massive blade taller than its wielder. The sight would have been comical if not for the obvious proficiency of the girl.

"Good luck" called Vasren, falling into an easy ready stance.

Ruby nodded. "You too"

Glenda signaled the match to begin.

Ruby set the blade of her scythe to the ground and fired a sniper rifle set into the haft. The first heavy bullet smashed into Vasren, though one of the ceramic plates in his coat absorbed the force. Vasren dodged to the side, firing a couple shots back at her with testament. She expertly avoided his fire, swinging herself about with ease on her weapon. Vasren took the opportunity to charge forwards at her. The reaper, however was faster. Blindingly fast, fast enough to become indistinct. Vasren staggered mid stride, ruby's scythe smashing across his chestplate, the blade shattering the toughened ceramic with ease. He caught a glimpse of red behind him and turned, bringing his blade up to block. He immediately felt the jarring impact of blade on blade, the shock of the blow making his blade ring like a tuning fork. He spun round, hewing his blade horizontally across the room. He felt a slight tug on the tip, and smiled. The young reaper crashed to the floor and rolled across the floor, a sizable chunk removed from her aura. She sprang to her feet with impressive agility and stood ready, her scythe held behind her. Vasren checked his own aura. About equal to hers. He brought his sword into a defensive stance, the heavy blade ready to cover any part of his guard.

She was fast, and agile, and really too young to be at beacon. Holy hells she couldn't have been more than fifteen.

"It happens you know, if a candidate shows enough promise they send the message out early. It's quite a privilege actually."

He grimaced, still lecturing me huh?

He assessed his options. He was stronger than her, and had a heavier weapon, with far greater hitting power. But he would need to hit her first. That was going to be difficult.

He reached up to his shoulder with his left hand and unbuckled his chest plate, the shattered ceramic falling from him with a clatter.

Ruby's eyes widened slightly, and she seemed almost apologetic. Maybe. Or shocked. Or maybe satisfied? Hard to tell.

Vasren surged forwards, testament swinging forwards in a blurring grey arc. The girls reflexes were unbelievable however, and she brought her scythe up in an expert block. A block that would have worked perfectly against anyone but Vasren. Testament's heavy blade powered straight through the block, slamming the haft of her own weapon into her side and sending her flying backwards. She twisted midair and fired a shot from her sniper rifle, the heavy bullet deflecting from vasren's sword, and then gouging a furrow across his chest, straining his aura. He cursed and fired his own gun, the last four heavy shells in the clip bursting explosively on the wall as the slight girl twisted midair. He growled and swung for her again, the tip of his blade barely missing her. She landed and fired behind herself powering forwards to land a devastating strike against Vasren's right side. He was smashed from his feet to land on his back. He used the momentum from her strike to roll to his feet, sword towards the dissipating cloud of Rose petals slowly floating towards the floor.

She was behind him.

Everything seemed to slow down. He dropped to on knee, right arm moving backwards towards his swift opponent, sword positioned across his chest. His left knee hit the ground. He felt a strong impact on his right elbow, and the feathery sensation of expelled breath past his ear. He turned his head and jerked his arm upwards, striking the girl in the face with the back of his fist. She reeled back, stunned momentarily. He swung testament in a vicious sweep, the heavy blade slamming into her stomach and launching her into the wall. As she landed a shot rang out across the arena, and the muzzle of her sniper scythe lit up as she fired a reflexive shot.

Vasren felt the heavy bullet hit him, low on his right side. It burst through a ceramic tile in his coat, before smashing aside the last of his aura, dropping straight from yellow to zero. The bullet buried itself in his side, sending sheets of white hot agony lancing up his side.

He staggered backwards.

"Vasren Corvus is the winner of the match"

A polite applause went round the room, though the people ruby had been sitting with looked angry. Except the one in white, she almost looked pleased.

Vasren sheathed his blade and walked over to the still dazed ruby. He proffered his hand to her as she came to, blinking owlishly. She looked up at him for a second, disoriented, then she grasped his hand and he hauled her to her feet.

"Good match, had me on the ropes for a bit".

She smiled. "Sure, it was fun"

He nodded and walked over to the stairs, ascending to sit back with his team.

Malik scooted over to make room for him on the bench, and Vasren sat down heavily, breathing hard.

"Well, that was harder than anticipated."

Nerada laughed warmly. "Nice job out there, but I think your boasting was far from justified."

Vasren huffed. "I have a lot more trouble fighting fast people, my strength is power, not agility."

Electra laughed now, less warmly. "Ha, your just sore coz you got beat on by a little girl."

She put her head in her hand and laughed more. "And what the actual fuck were you talking about just there? 'My strength is powaaaaah, mwahahahahahaha"

Vasren leaned forwards, the bullet in his side sending waves of pain through him at the motion.

"When I say my strength is power, I'm not just being arrogant, unlike some I could point at, I mean my weapons have greater hitting power than most. Far greater in fact."

"Yeah whatever."

Vasren drew his sword and offered her the hilt. "Go on, try it"

Electra shrugged and took hold of the hilt. Vasren let go abruptly. The blade clanged to the floor, Electra gasping as she struggled to lift the immense weight.

"What the fuck... did you make this out of? Lead?"

Vasren laughed and took the hilt back. "No actually, tungsten carbide"

He ran a hand down the edge of the blade. "The metal is about twice as stiff as steel, and as hard as a gemstone. As far as normal battlefield circumstances it is indestructible and more than capable of chopping an Ursa in half."

He turned the blade over, still holding it one handed.

"However it does have one fatal flaw, it's density. Tungsten carbide is more than one and a half times as dense as lead, and therefore completely unsuitable for use in bladed weapons, as the excessive weight means that most people couldn't wield a blade like this. In fact, the only place you will ever see tungsten on a battlefield is in bullets, where it is used to make armor piercing rounds."

He sheathed the sword, grinning.

Nera seemed impressed, and kept quiet. But Electra looked like she wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words.

Vasren felt a light pressure on his shoulder and half turned, only to see the tall blonde ruby had been sitting next to.

"You, we need to talk."

Vasren shrugged and stood up, walking with her to the back of the room. She motioned to the door and stepped outside. Vasren followed.

He rounded the corner and carefully closed the door. He turned around, then found himself falling backwards. His head hit the ground and pain detonated from his nose.

The blonde grabbed him by the neck and hauled him to his feet, pulling him eye to eye with her.

"What the hell was that move you used on my sister?"

Vasren looked at her, confused. She shook him and repeated her question, only louder. Vasren decided he had had quite enough of this. He grasped her wrist with his right hand and squeezed. She gasped in pain and withdrew her hand.

Vasren straightened his coat.

"Are you ready to actually talk now?"

The blonde clenched her fists and growled.

Vasren sighed. "In answer to your question the move I used was an elbow strike, followed up by dazing strike."

"Well it was a dirty trick"

"Oh? How so?"

"What do you mean how so? It was a dirty trick"

"Why? Because I didn't use my weapons? Because I didn't follow a predictable pattern of attack in a loosing fight? Because she's younger and smaller than me? Because, despite your apparent misgivings, it actually worked?"

The blonde clenched her fists tightly, her face a mask of rage. Maybe best not to goad her.

"Tell me miss..."

"Yang, Yang xiao long."

"Tell me yang, have you ever been in a really serious fight? A battle not for victory, honor, or glory, but a fight for survival. A fight against a foe who will not hesitate, or even blink, at ending your life?"

She seemed caught up by this, confused.

"Because, miss xiao long, I have. And when you are in that kind of fight, there are no rules, there is no legal or illegal, right or wrong. Just life and death, winner and loser. That is what we train for, and if we become accustomed to the petty rules of a tournament, or some misguided code of chivalry, we will die."

He scratched his head and reached down to his side, gloved hands pressing his wound.

Yang noticed immediately. "You're hurt, but how?"

Vasren laughed, and winced.

"When I knocked ruby across the arena her gun went off, it seems likely her finger slipped as I hit her. When that happened the bullet hit me by some miracle. It drilled through my armor, aura and went into my side. Not very deep though. Didn't have much force left behind it."

He withdrew the slug, a squashed conical bullet about the size of his thumb.

"In any case, I would prefer it if she didn't learn of this, for several reasons."

He tipped his hat to her and walked inside, pocketing the bullet.

Yang stood for a moment outside, perplexed by this odd figure. She sighed and rubbed her face, before walking back inside.

On the floor below, a blue coated boy with an axe fought back and forth with another boy in brown body armor, wielding a sword.

Malik was trying to hold in laughter, while Electra was sparking with fury.

"Honestly Electra, if you want to talk about its fine."

"There's nothing to talk about, because it isn't true"

"Oh? Then why did I catch you making that face when you looked over your shoulder?"

"IT'S NOT TRUE."

Vasren vaulted over the bench to slide in next to Electra.

"What isn't true?"

Electra turned to look at him, startled. Was she blushing?

"None of your business." She said sullenly, hands squashing her cheeks as she glared daggers into the ground.

Vasren raised an eyebrow, then lay back hat over his eyes.

Nerada shifted slightly in her seat, armor clinking.

A buzzer sounded below them. Well, Vasren thought it was more of a chime. And the boy in brown threw up his hands, defeated. The victor slung his axe across his back and walked off stage.

Vasren settled in to watch the rest of the fights.


	6. Chapter 6, stories left untold

Hello,** and welcome back to my story. Sorry for the delay but life has been a little crazy lately. I will now be taking suggestions for advancements in the story. These should be left as reviews and I will read every single one. There is one rule though. I will NOT, be shipping anyone other than my OC's, basically just because I want to keep VENM as my own creation.**

**anyways, as always have a pleasant read.**

Chapter six, stories left untold.

Electra ran her hands through her hair, unusually pensive.

What was she gonna do?

She slammed her fist against the wall, overcome by the sudden pins and needles feeling of her semblance activating. She calmed herself down, lightning was definitely not good in the shower. The water drummed across her bare skin, it's reassuring tempo relaxing her taut muscles and calming her frayed nerves.

It was all Vasren's fault. He was so... so damned different, so unlike anyone she had ever met. She let out a bark of laughter. "Yeah Electra, because you've always been the best at making friends, haven't you?"

It wasn't her fault though, growing up moving from orphanage to care home to foster homes and back to care homes hadn't exactly been the best way of meeting new people. She wasn't even an orphan for crying out loud.

She had very little contact with her parents. Hell, she didn't want to have any contact with them. Her father left before she was born, leaving her mother alone with a small baby. For the first three years of Electra's young life, before her earliest memories, she had lived hidden away at the back of her mother's ratty apartment up cheap side. Eventually the landlord had found her half starved to death, while her mother had lain in a drug induced stupor on the floor. With no other family, she had to be moved to an orphanage, where she grew into a willful, hotheaded girl with a reputation for quick violence. Because of this she was constantly moved from home to home, getting into trouble and being moved within the year.

At the age of thirteen she was admitted to signal academy, where she learned to hone and channel her fighting instincts into real combat. However her small stature and overconfidence quickly made her a... well, less than top of her class.

That all changed however, two years into her training.

She had just come home from signal, and was alive with energy. She had almost finished her course in aura, and her teacher had told her that he was sure she had a powerful semblance, and that it was just beneath her skin, ready to break out.

However, waiting for her at the care home were three of the boys from the home. Brutal, sadistic creatures. They had told her they had wanted revenge for one of her pranks, pouring bleach in their washing basket and burning their clothes.

They grabbed her, pinned her arms behind her back and carried her, kicking and screaming, upstairs.

The leader tied her to his bed, and took up a knife. He tortured her for almost an hour, leaving her sobbing in rage and agony as the three of them vented their frustration on her.

Then her semblance awoke, the now familiar burning tingle flooding her limbs and coalescing at her fingertips. The three of them never stood a chance.

She was found later, curled up on the bed, crying. Wearing badly ripped and bloodied clothes, and surrounded by three smoking corpses.

Electra rubbed her scar absently. No none, would ever do that to her again. She would kill them first.

She turned off the water and dried herself, the towel was much softer than she was used to. She shivered. This was going to be an interesting four years.

She dressed in the bathroom, her familiar attire fitting her snugly. She had flat out refused to wear the school uniform. It was itchy and unpleasant.

She turned to look at herself in the mirror. She wasn't much to look at. Not in her opinion. She had messy, unkempt black hair, pale skin and an angry, hard light in her eyes.

Vasren

What to do about Vasren? He was so different to everyone she had ever met before. He didn't get angry, he didn't shout, or try to force people to do what he wanted just because he wanted to do it. He was absolutely infuriating.

She'd show him. But, show him what?

She punched the wall again, feeling the shock of the blow ripple through her aura.

Damn him.

Nerada lay on her front, staring morosely at her notes from professor Port's class from yesterday. She sighed and closed the page, taking up her pen and absently beginning to sketch in her notepad. What to think about her team?

First was Electra. She had a chip on her shoulder and no mistake. She just seemed so combative. She turned everything into a battle, every joke to a scathing insult. And yet... the way she had looked at Vasren in combat class told a different story. The look had been contemplative, confused. And the slight pink blush that had crept into her milky pale cheeks. She would be a fascinating puzzle to crack.

Aside from that she was a terrifying combatant. Her semblance meant she only needed a second of direct contact to put you on your back, twitching uncontrollably. Besides the fact that she had cooked a sixty foot long king taijitu during initiation. Nerada was glad she was on their side.

However her tendency to question orders would definitely prove inconvenient, that was something to remember.

Malik was something of an enigma, he was a perfectly fine, normal person. But every interaction felt strange, forced.

Nerada pursed her lips and span her pen between her fingers. The picture was almost done, the shapes were all there, and the shading in the fore and mid ground. It was a scene from Vasren's duel earlier that week. In the picture he was spinning, his double blade sweeping through the air towards his opponent. His left arm was extended out the other way, to counterbalance his swing, and his coat flared outwards from the motion.

Nerada quickly put thoughts of him out of her mind, he gave her a headache. Cryptic bastard.

His opponent was still being drawn, and was just a hazy outline, not even a full figure. She studied the page critically. It actually looked better this way. She stuffed the page into her sketch book and turned over, closing her eyes.

Malik walked through the grounds. His tread was light, measured and confident. The day was pleasantly cool, a brisk breeze sweeping across the cliff top. The grounds were pretty nice as well, plenty of open space, nice trees, long grass.

Wonderful.

He sighed and sat against the bottom of a tree, closing his eyes contentedly. He loved the outdoors, he loved it more than anything. Well, maybe not fighting. That, if he was honest, was his real passion. The thrill of the hunt, the addictive surge of adrenaline through his veins, the clarity and simplicity of fighting. And there was no better place than beacon, if you wanted to learn how to fight.

Malik cast such thoughts from his mind. He was a huntsman in training, and huntsmen fought to protect people.

He slid down the trunk of the tree, lying full length in the grass. He had come a long way from home.

He had lived on an island off the coast of vale, he and his family had shared a modest house in the woodlands. Their isolation protected them from the hate the other Faunus were subjected to, and allowed Malik to grow up in relative peace. However, his family had gotten into debt, and moved into vale itself to find work. The horrific treatment of his kind had shocked Malik. He quickly built a fierce hatred for people who discriminated against the Faunus.

He stood up and stretched, his back clicking. He relaxed and picked a piece of grass off the vest he was wearing, then another off his trousers.

He glanced at his watch. Half an hour till history with oobleck. He scratched his back with one clawed hand and headed back towards his dorm.

"OW, WHAT THE HELL?"

Malik turned to see a tall, brutish boy with burnt orange hair laughing, one hand wrapped around a girl's fox tail.

Malik growled and walked towards him, golden eyes narrowed and clawed hands clenched to fists. The boy yanked her tail again, then tripped her over, still laughing.

That did it.

Malik charged forwards, unarmed. The boy heard him and turned just in time to see Malik leaping towards him, claws leading. The Faunus tackled the boy to the ground, claws slamming into his shoulders. He glared at him, almost nose to nose. The orange haired bully punched upwards, the heavy blow striking the lion Faunus in the chest. He may as well have punched a wall.

Malik slashed him across the face with his claws, and while the boy's aura stopped any damage, he still felt the pain of being slashed across the face by an angry lion Faunus. Malik roared in his face and began to beat the boy savagely, claws ripping across his aura and fists pummeling him into the ground.

Without warning Malik felt two pairs of hands grab him by the upper arms and drag him off the boy. He looked up, and came face to face with the bully's teammates.

Damn.

He got to his feet and struggled, the two students barely keeping hold of his thrashing form. He felt a stunning blow to his stomach, and doubled over, winded. He growled and tore one arm free, slamming a boy with a Mohawk to the floor in one slashing blow. He turned and swung at another, claws extended. The boy dodged and Malik was knocked to his knees from behind. Malik roared, but was cut short as the tall brute kicked him in the side of the head. He fell to his side and felt more kicks rain on his chest and back. He cursed silently. Cowards. He drew his arms into his chest and over his head, curling up defensively. He didn't have to endure the beating for long however, as the rain of blows stopped abruptly. He looked up to see one of his assailants flying backwards, ploughing into another of them.

Vasren cocked his arm and threw another punch, sending another of the bullies crashing to the ground. He leapt over his prone teammate and brought his hands up into a fighter's stance. He didn't say a word though.

The leader stood opposite Vasren, and ignored the prone Malik, who was still catching his breath. He squared up against the trench coated figure, face set in a sneer and arms at his side relaxed. Vasren seemed characteristically unconcerned, and barely moved from his stance. The other three bullies picked themselves up and arrayed themselves next to their leader. Vasren didn't wait for them to hit first. While many combat instructors would babble on about letting your opponent strike first, then countering, Vasren had never put any stock in that at all. Hit first, or get hit first. Never, ever lose the initiative, never go on the defensive if given a choice.

His first blow was a sweeping strike with his left hand, which swung the tail of his coat across the faces of his three opponents, momentarily hiding him from view. His right fist slammed into one of them in a brutal right hook, knocking him out cold instantly. The leader threw a devastating punch towards Vasren, who simply pivoted his torso to avoid the blow. He grabbed the boy's fist and tripped him over, sending him sprawling. The other two hesitated slightly, and catastrophically. He grabbed one of them by the throat and slammed him bodily into his friend, knocking them both over. He drew back his foot and kicked the leader in the head, laying him out cold. He spun back around to face the last two, hands spread out to each side. They however, were already long gone.

Vasren made a dismissive noise in the back of his throat.

Malik stood up, rolling his shoulders to work the stiffness out.

"Thanks Vasren."

Vasren turned to him. "No problem. It would have been remiss of me, as leader of our team, to stand by and do nothing."

His posture changed slightly, becoming slightly more upright, and somehow instantly intimidating. "Now, why the hell, did you decide to pick a fight with the entirety of team CRDL?"

Malik straightened, proud. "They attacked a Faunus girl, I intervened" Vasren rounded on him.

"Why the hell did you intervene?"

Malik looked confused. "She needed help"

"I don't give half a damn, if she needed help that badly why is she at this school?"

Malik growled, claws extending from his fingertips.

Vasren didn't miss this. "Go on, try it."

Malik roared and swiped for Vasren. Vasren brought a fist up into Malik's stomach, winding him. Malik doubled over, groaning. Vasren easily swept him to the ground. He knelt down, eye to eye with his teammate.

"Thanks to you, VENM now has four new enemies, all because you couldn't let the actions of one idiot slide. If she couldn't have dealt with the situation herself, she is beyond your help."

He stood up, and brushed off his coat.

Malik watched his retreating back as he strode away. He stood up, and slowly made his way towards oobleck's class.


	7. Chapter 7, secrets and ice cream

**Hello again, and merry Christmas. This marks the beginning of a set of character development chapters focussed on Vasren. But don't worry, the story will march on towards the point where it eventually becomes interesting. Don't forget to follow if you want to read more, and leave a review, please. Any suggestions WILL be read and considered.**

**have a pleasant read.**

Chapter seven: Secrets and Ice cream.

Nerada brought her sword down in a sweeping horizontal strike, the long coppery blade cutting across the chestplate of her opponent. She pushed her left side forwards to follow up, her shield crashing into the unfortunate boy, who staggered backwards. She punched the back of her shield, unleashing a golden shockwave that sent him soaring across the floor, barely keeping hold of his twinned sickles. She gave him no time to recover, charging forwards with her shield leading. He got to his feet slowly, dazed. She leveled her sword on the run and unleashed a searing arc of flame from the tip, heavily damaging his already low aura.

Goodwitch called the match soon afterwards.

Nerada sheathed Aurum, and slung Aeris across her back, then walked up to join her team in the stands. Vasren nodded a greeting, while Malik glared at the ground, body turned away from Vasren and Electra, shoulders hunched. Electra, for her part, seemed to be asleep, one arm across her face, and legs resting on the backrests of the seats in front of them.

Nerad sat down and pulled off her helmet, shaking her hair out to fall down her back.

"Nicely done, Nera"

Nerada nodded in thanks, still breathing hard.

The buzzer chime bell thing went off to signal the end of class.

Electra woke up quickly, blinking like an owl. After a moment her face set back into its characteristic mask and she stood up and stretched. Nerada had to suppress a laugh. Even while he was sitting down Vasren was taller than her.

Vasren stood up, his height and coat managing to completely obscure Electra.

He walked towards the door, scroll in hand.

"Well, well, well. It's our lunch break next, but after that we haven't got any more lessons today."

Electra grinned, and Nerada couldn't suppress a smile either. Electra suddenly held up one hand, clenched into a fist. She had a triumphant light in her eyes.

"Oh, we are so going to go hit vale this afternoon".

Vasren stiffened slightly, then turned to glance at his team.

"Sure, why not."

Nerada nodded as well.

"Yeah, sounds good. I'll get changed after lunch"

Malik grunted. "Yeah, you guys go have fun with that"

He turned and stalked away, shoulders hunched and fists clenched.

Nerada looked over at Electra. "What the hell's with him?"

Electra shrugged. "Maybe someone stole his catnip?"

Nerada shook her head and walked into the lunch hall, seating herself at one of the tables, and leaning her shield against the bench. Electra slotted in to her right, and Vasren next to Electra.

Vasren rubbed his forehead with one hand, wincing slightly.

Nerada grabbed a sandwich and took a bite, chewing the chicken slowly.

"So, what do you wanna do in vale?"

Vasren bit his bottom lip thoughtfully, grabbing a shiny green apple.

Electra piped up. "Hmmm, I need some more dust for volts and bolts, we could stop by a dust shop."

Nerada nodded. "Yeah, I could use some fire dust for Aurum."

Vasren nodded, taking a large bite from his Apple, the loud crunch setting Nerada's teeth on edge. She pursed her lips, thinking through what she might want to do for the day.

"What else could we do?"

Vasren swallowed his Apple and tapped the table with one gloved finger.

"I know a really good ice cream place we can go to, if anyone's interested."

Electra immediately brightened up. "Oh man, I love ice cream"

Nerada smiled and shook her head ruefully. Of all the things to make Electra suddenly start acting like a real person, of course it was ice cream.

Vasren rolled his head on his neck, one hand moving to probe his spine.

"Wassup Vasren? Your neck hurt?" Electra piped up.

He nodded and put his hand back on the table. Nerada spoke next. "Why don't we go to the library?"

Electra rolled her eyes. "Uh, because it's boring, and stupid"

Vasren smiled. "I think the library would be an excellent place to visit, I haven't read a good book in quite a while."

Electra pouted and folded her arms across her chest. "Fine, I don't care anymore."

Nerada laughed and finished off her sandwich. "Okay, I'll go get changed, meet you at the ferry in half an hour." She stood up and walked off towards their dorm.

Electra smirked. "Yeah, today's gonna be fun."

Vasren grabbed another Apple and pocketed it, walking towards the locker rooms.

"I'll meet you at the ferry, just gotta dump some stuff in my locker."

Electra sighed and ran a hand down her face. These people. Honestly. So picky.

She stood up and brushed crumbs off her skirt, then straightened her jacket. She checked for her weapons, the gauntlets still collapsed on her back, fastened to her studded belt.

She stood up abruptly and bounced towards the doors. Today would be fun.

Vasren punched in his locker combination, the motion almost automatic by this point. The door popped open, his empty locker yawning open in front of him. He unbuckled his chestplate and hung the ceramic at the back of the container. Then he unfastened the armored lining of his coat, and deposited that as well.

He kept his sword though. He didn't feel right without it.

He was dubious about today, the last time he had been to vale had been with his old crew. They had romped around the city, full of youthful optimism and camaraderie. They had always went down to the docks and just ran about, joking and talking, sparring occasionally. After that they always went to the ice cream shop. He would always order the morello cherry flavor. Darius would buy vanilla, Aren, chocolate, Zoey would always buy that strange orange flavor, Raynor would get strawberry. Astrid would always get mint chocolate chip, then she'd get a cookie and stick it in the side, and put chocolate sauce on it.

Dust, he missed them.

He put them out of his mind for now. He had new friends, and he couldn't waste the present because of the past. Astrid would personally come back to haunt him if he did. He smiled and clenched his fist.

"Well Astrid, I made it, just like I promised." He whispered softly.

He deliberated a moment, then stowed his hat in the locker as well. Stupid thing got in the way most times anyway.

Electra leaned against the the lamppost nearest to the landing pad. The wind blew through her hair, ruffling it in a wonderful way. She had always loved the wind, it had carried away all her pain, all her anger. On some days she felt as if she could just close her eyes and float away on the gusts, soaring free through the sky, skimming the clouds.

She shook her head and clawed her hair back into some semblance of order, raking the rebellious strands behind her ears.

She saw Vasren approach first, his height and long coat making him easy to pick out from the crowd. She watched him through half closed eyes, lazily following his advance. He was such an over dramatic bastard, seriously, who wore a coat like that? And he spoke strangely too. He was a puzzle.

She yawned, stretching her arms out to the sides and arching her back.

Vasren arrived, his heavy combat boots clanging on the metal deck of the landing pad. He nodded a greeting. Electra waved a lazy hand back at him. "Yo".

Vasren turned to stand next to her, looking out towards beacon. "Nera here yet?"

"Nah"

Vasren nodded slowly. He nodded a lot. Like, anything you did and his head would start bobbing up and down like one of those things on your dashboard. He cocked it to the side a fair bit too, and his crow feather black hair would always fall to one side of his face, obscuring one eye. The other eye was always visible though, those mesmerizing violet eyes. They seemed to cut right through you.

Vasren turned and looked at her, then -damn him- cocked his head to the side.

She quickly looked back to the academy building.

Nerada was on her way, but Electra had to do a double take to make sure it was her.

She strutted up to them. Annoying bitch.

She stepped next to them and twirled. "So, what do you think?"

She was wearing a pair of dark leggings, the stretchy material clinging to her shapely legs. Over that she wore a deep red skirt, reaching about mid thigh. Above that she wore a tight fitting boat necked top that highlighted the curves of her upper body.

Damn the bitch.

"Didn't recognize you at first".

Nerada laughed, a warm, genuine laugh.

"Well, I can't wear armor all the time now can I?"

Electra scowled. "Come on, let's go already".

Vasren turned slowly and walked to the ferry, coat flapping in the cliff top wind.

Vale was a bustling, vibrant place. The buildings were tall, without having that flat glass look of many other cities. The architecture was softer, more elegant, distinctly lacking the cold harsh edge of atlesian cities, while not suffering from the over the top detail of mistralian ones.

Electra bounced along the path, simply enjoying the atmosphere. Vasren and Nerada walked a step behind her, looking around and taking in the city. She grinned. Today would definitely be fun.

She had always loved going out in the city, just forgetting about her worries and responsibilities and enjoying herself. The other girls at the orphanage had always gone with friends. They were all studying to become accountants, teachers, businesswomen and doctors. Electra was a fighter, she had an aggressive streak a mile wide, and an instinctive understanding of how to fight and win. She had nothing in common with them, so she had gone out on her own.

Now though, she was with other fighters, fellow combatants and huntsmen in training.

The dust shop was dead ahead, a large, well appointed place with three floors and a huge variety of products.

Vasren lead the way in, opening the door gently and sliding in sideways. Electra strutted in next, followed by Nerada's graceful, gliding, infuriating gait.

Vasren glanced around, hands in his pockets. Nerada strolled over to the fire dust section, picking up and replacing various vials and boxes of dust.

Electra quickly located and picked up a pair of canisters of lightning dust. Fine grade. She pushed them into a basket and moved over to Vasren, who was looking intently at a shelf full of dust ammunition.

"What ya looking for?"

Vasren turned and fixed her with his mesmerizing, violet eyed gaze. "I was considering some new rounds for testament, but don't really know what to get."

"Well, you have come to the right girl, Vasren, I'm a dust expert."

Vasren smiled, and turned to her. "Alright, what do you recommend?"

Electra cracked her knuckles for effect. "Well, there are a few different kinds of round here. If you wanna kill something, fire dust is generally the way to go, though some rock dust rounds can fragment pretty well. If you want a nonlethal route, ice dust can easily incapacitate someone, while lightning dust can stun 'em pretty well."

Vasren nodded slowly and picked up a red bullet, the whole cartridge as long as his thumb. "They never have enough bullets in my caliber, it's annoying really."

Electra looked at him incredulously. The bullet was massive.

"What the hell do you mean, that's huge!"

Vasren reached into his inside pocket and showed her a shell.

"The round I picked up is a fifty cal, generally the biggest you'll see. I was brought up to call it a twelve-seven, or twelve point seven millimeter. The gun I use is a fifteen millimeter light cannon. Significantly bigger."

"No kidding".

Vasren smiled. Electra scanned the shelves, eyes flicking over the rows and boxes almost instantly. She reached out and picked up a box of shells, handing it to Vasren.

"Here, these should work, and always get the assorted box first, it helps you decide which rounds suit you best."

He nodded and matched the shell in his hand to the ones in the box. "Thanks, Electra."

"Yeah yeah, whatever, let's go find that ice cream place you were talking about."

He nodded slowly. Fucking nodding. All the damn time. Seriously.

Nerada was waiting for them at the door, a bag across her back, doubtless filled with dust. She gave Electra a knowing look and smile. What the hell? Why was she looking at her like that?

Electra shrugged and walked over to the counter, handing over the lien for her dust, and Vasren's shells.

She spun and walked out the door.

"Alright, now we go for ice cream."

Nerada strolled along with the other two, the weight of the dust she had bought sitting reassuringly in her bag. They were near the docks now, just close enough to smell the salt on the wind over the usual city smells of food and car exhaust.

Vasren lead the way, his stride confident, his coat swishing around his ankles.

Electra was a step behind, her hair bouncing and flicking around in the breeze, blue highlights losing their shape.

They were such a cute couple, and they didn't even know it.

Nerada had grown up in vale, and knew a budding romance when she saw one. Even if neither of them did.

She had seen the way Electra looked at Vasren, it was that same absent, mesmerized, contemplative look she had seen so often. Vasren didn't seem to notice though, and he was totally inscrutable. This would be difficult. She loved a challenge.

Vasren stopped and turned to face left, Electra walking straight into him. Oh yeah, she was falling hard.

Vasren looked down at her, and she quickly extricated herself and dusted down her skirt. Vasren shook his head and walked to the front of the ice cream parlor.

Nerada was not particularly impressed with the exterior. It was painted a deep blue, with golden lettering proclaiming its name and wares. The font was dignified, but stuffy. An old looking, angular affair.

The interior was much nicer. It was a pale blue, with clean white furniture and an organized, logical layout.

The ice cream was set out behind a curved glass screen, each in a circular tub with a small sign stuck haphazardly into it. The range of flavors went from delicious to downright bizarre. Toffee, chocolate and strawberry were next to more unpleasant sounding flavors, like Parmesan, or toast. Some of the others sounded wonderful though, like morello cherry, chocolate cookie, or salted caramel.

Electra immediately bounced over to the glass and peered in, eyes alight with all the different colors and flavors.

Vasren looked around slowly, a strangely sad look in his eyes. But also... nostalgic?

Nerada walked over to stand by Electra, and scanned the flavors intently.

Vasren rang the bell on the counter, then stood back and put his hands in his pockets.

Vasren regretted walking into the shop immediately. It was all achingly familiar. The seats, the counter, the tacky sign. Everything. He could almost smell the strange, almost citrusy scent of Astrid's hair, hear her laughing with his team.

He closed his eyes tightly and rang the bell, summoning the shopkeeper. Let's just get this over with.

"One second, I'll be right there." Came a voice from the back of the shop.

Vasren furrowed his brow. That was a young woman's voice, not the voice of the kindly old man that used to run it. How times have changed.

She emerged precisely nine and a half seconds later, emerging from the back of the shop out of breath.

She was medium height, with jaw length brown hair that reminded him of Electra's, only combed and not black and blue. She wore a maroon jumper and a knee length black skirt with tights. A pair of large glasses were perched on her nose.

"Hello there, how can I help you?"

Electra was still staring at the flavors, biting her lip in indecision. It was kinda cute actually. Very different to how she usually looked.

Nerada walked confidently to the counter and leaned across, her posture easygoing and engaging.

"Oh, I would like to order a scoop of chocolate cookie, and one of toffee in... one of those chocolate cones with sprinkles."

The woman nodded and began to quickly assemble the treat, her hands moving quickly across the counter. Obviously well practiced. Nerada turned to Vasren.

"What would you like?"

Vasren's answer was automatic.

"Three scoops of morello cherry please, in a tub."

Nerada nodded and turned to Electra. "And you? Hey lightning girl, what would you like?"

She turned to Nerada with a pleading look on her face. "Gimme a sec, I haven't decided yet."

Nerada smiled indulgently. "Be quick, we're ordering."

Electra seemed to deliberate a little more. Then answered.

"I would like the mint with chocolate chips, in a chocolate cone."

Vasren's heart damn near stopped. Déjà vu.

For Dust's sakes Corvus, get ahold of yourself, she's dead, they're all dead and gone.

Coming here was definitely a mistake.

The woman rapidly assembled the order and presented it to them in the counter.

Vasren withdrew the money from his pocket and handed it to Nera, who attempted to push it back.

"No, please. My treat."

She sighed and handed the lien to the shop assistant. Electra immediately grabbed her ice cream with child like abandon. Her slim, tapered fingers wrapping around the cone eagerly. Nerada smiled at this. Vasren regarded her from his peripheral vision. It was so strange to see his fierce, almost vicious teammate so relaxed. So... happy.

He picked up his own confection, the ice cream a deep, luxurious purple with seams of frozen cherry juice running through it like veins.

Admittedly, he had wanted to have this again for a very long time. Nerada thanked the shop assistant and lead them outside, the cool, salty air brushing gently by them. Vasren took a mouthful of his ice cream, the slightly sharp flavor of the cherry cutting through the smooth, rich taste of well made ice cream.

He closed his eyes as the wonderful stuff melted across his pallet. Simply delicious.

Nerada had thoroughly enjoyed the ice cream, but was still extremely confused as to what was happening with Vasren. She could usually read people very well, a natural talent of hers. But this cryptic warrior was defying all her best efforts. She was definitely interested in him, though not romantically, he was far too quiet for her.

But, back on topic she had noticed him acting really strangely in the shop, he had constantly had a weird look on his face. Pained, regretful. Anguished. Something was going on with him, and she was determined to find out what. She hated unknown quantities, they were accidents waiting to happen, conflicts ready to unfold.

She was promptly distracted by her reverie when Electra let out an almost catlike purr. She had melted chocolate on her fingers, and traces of mint green ice cream on her upper lip. They were sitting on a bench by the docks, looking out across the water. The sun was setting now, casting liquid gold across the surface of the water. Vasren had finished his ice cream only a minute ago, and was looking out across the water, pensive.

Electra was cleaning her fingers and lip of the last of her confection, and seemed alive with energy.

"Alright guys, what now?"

Nerada glanced a her scroll. "It's getting late, I think we should probably go back."

Electra snorted. "Nah, I know a great place we should go. Follow me."

Nerada and Vasren exchanged a glance. Nerada spoke first. "Meh, what the hell, let's go."

Nerada would quickly regret that decision.

Nerada pressed her hand to her forehead, groaning in exasperation. Of course. It was just like Electra to bring them all to a club.

Just. Fucking. Typical.

Vasren, if anything, was looking even worse for wear. He leaned against the wall, head angled downwards, eyes screwed up tight with pain.

Nerada felt a little relieved she wasn't the only one who was miserable.

Electra was having a great time, drinking and dancing with a surprising amount of skill. The table she was at had at least six empty glasses, all hers.

Fucking excellent. Their violent, hotheaded teammate had a drinking problem. Just the icing on the damned cake.

"How much longer do you think she'll be?" Came Vasren's pained voice from beside her.

Nerada sighed and took a sip of her drink, the fiery liquid burning down her throat.

"Who knows? Half an hour? All damn night?"

Vasren's cursed under his breath. Nerada silently echoed his sentiment. She piped up again.

"I guess we can just hope she doesn't do anything-"

A loud scream sounded from the dance floor.

"Stupid..."

Vasren sighed and forged a path over to the commotion. Nerada following in his wake.

Electra was standing over another of the dancers, a young, attractive man perhaps in his twenties. He was twitching uncontrollably and frothing at the mouth, the stink of ozone revealing everything in a heartbeat.

Things went downhill so rapidly, it seemed to have toppled from a cliff.

The mans friends leapt for Electra, landing furious blows on the diminutive girl. She fought back with arcs of lightning, but the alcohol in her blood was making her increasingly woozy. Her blows were slow, poorly aimed and ineffective. She wasn't able to muster the concentration to re activate her semblance quickly. Vasren immediately leapt into the fray, forgoing his sword in favor of brutal, hand to hand combat. Nerada was barely a step behind.

Vasren easily leveled his first opponent with one blow, his fist smashing him from his feet to crash into his companions. The confusion this caused wasn't wasted.

Nerada stood in awe.

It was like watching a fox in a henhouse. He easily ripped through the melee, making almost embarrassingly short work of the tipsy young men, powerful punches tossing them aside like broken puppets. Nerada shook herself out of her reverie and ran over to Electra. The girl was seriously drunk, every breath reeking of alcohol. Damn fool. Nerada tried to grab hold of her, but yanked her hands back immediately. She was charged up, electricity blooming across her skin. Another drunk rushed Nerada from behind, trying to catch her off guard. She whipped around and gathered her aura to her fists, golden light wrapping around them. The drunk was on top of her now, swinging a ponderous, slow strike towards her head. Nerada powered forwards, slamming her hands into his chest, the pent up energy around her fists exploding outwards. The shockwave picked him up and threw him bodily into the remainder of the melee.

Vasren had finished up, and was surrounded by unconscious, groaning men. He brushed down his coat and hurried over to Electra, who was groggily attempting to get to her feet, electricity sparking in her hair and at her fingertips. Slurred babble was spewing from her mouth, and her aura was all but gone.

Vasren took one look at her, then cocked his arm, landing a precise blow to her temple. Her eyes rolled up in her head and she slumped backwards, her semblance dissipating. He ran a hand across his face in exasperation, then picked Electra up, one arm under her knees, the other across her shoulders.

He nodded towards the door, and the two quickly made their way out, fully taking advantage of the confusion on the dance floor.

Nerada walked a step behind Vasren, who still had Electra hugged to his chest, though it appeared her unconsciousness had given way to actual sleep.

The day had been going so well...

Nerada sighed. It had taught her a lot about her team though. Electra was a raging drunk as well as a poorly disciplined hothead. Vasren was still a cryptic bastard, although without doubt one of the finest, and most brutal fighters she had ever witnessed in combat. Maybe she was being unfair. She was feeling more than a lot out of sorts at the moment.

They stepped outside, the cool night air whistling past them, tugging at Vasren's long coat, causing it to flap about behind him like a pair of sinister wings. Nerada's hair streaked out behind her in an undulating coppery banner, the wind tugging on it with playful hands.

Vasren turned to walk towards the ferry, still cradling Electra in his arms.

Electra murmured something in her sleep and shifted slightly. Then she put her arms around Vasren, hugging close to him and nuzzling her head to his chest, breathing softly. Nerada's anger faded at the sight. They really were a cute couple, even if they didn't realize it quite yet. She yawned and scratched behind one ear. When she got back to the dorm, she was going to take the longest, hottest fucking shower in the whole damn world.


	8. Chapter 8, blood on the snow

**Hello, and welcome back to VENM, hope you all had a wonderful Christmas. Sorry for the delay in posting this, but it took ages to write, and I didn't have that much time on my hands. As always, have a pleasant read.**

Chapter eight, blood on the snow.

Vasren shivered in the blistering winds, his heavy coat drawn tightly around him, and buttoned up for once. Beside him, Nerada and Malik stood, arms tucked under their armpits to conserve heat. Nerada was even using her shield, Aeris, as a windbreak. Electra was using Vasren as a windbreak, standing with her back against his, teeth chattering.

They were standing on one of the circular landing pads at the front of the school, waiting for a series of small transports to take them on a field trip to the mountains north of vale. Goodwitch had called it wilderness survival. With extra Grimm.

Their combat lessons had been more interesting as well lately, adding environmental factors into the fights. Terrain, weather conditions, fatigue, sleep deprivation. It was a grueling course, but one that Vasren excelled at. He was top of the class, his long years as a mercenary lending him invaluable experience in the field.

Malik was doing almost as well, showing uncanny adaptability and seemingly infinite endurance. Nerada had a knack for being able to bull straight through obstacles and adverse conditions with admirable stoicism. Electra was flagging though, often simply unable to cope with some of the scenarios. Although, in saying that, she was one of the deadliest close quarter fighters in the entire academy, her weapons easily able to disable opponents and blast away their aura in short order. Only yang xiao long, the blond that had accosted him on his first day, rivaled that deadly competence.

They had been notified of the trip during their last class, an exercise in the forests near the academy, where Vasren had been pitted against four opponents, who had had time to dig in and wait for him.

He smiled at the memory. That had been an enjoyable class. He had quickly turned the tables on them, easily guessing their hides and ambushing them one by one. Goodwitch had used the display as an example of exactly how to approach a possible ambush situation, and had roasted CRDL over the coals for their predictable hiding spots and poor communication. Cardin hadn't taken that well, still nursing his pride after being saved from an Ursa Major by jaune in forever fall.

Vasren had apparently handled the situation poorly, though he had thought he was giving helpful advice.

He shook his head and scratched his ear under his hat. The wind picked up, stinging his exposed face and ears. He shivered and turned up his collar in an attempt to assuage the issue. It worked for the most part.

Electra shivered against him, he could barely feel her diminutive frame through his armored coat. She had been acting a little calmer since her escapade at the club two weeks ago. A little. She was still an unpredictable hothead.

But she had been acting weirdly as well. She was unable to maintain eye contact with him, she rarely talked to him, or volunteered to spend time around him, refused his help. It was puzzling.

He was jerked out of his thoughts as professor goodwitch walked onto the landing pad, black and purple cape flying in the wind like a banner.

She turned to face the class, and swept her eyes across the sixteen assembled students. Teams VENM, CRDL, TOPZ, and OPAL. She began to explain the mission, but between the wind and his raised, flapping collar, he couldn't hear a word she said. He shut his eyes, extending his senses outwards as he had been trained to. He could hear the roaring wind, the flap, snap and clink of combat gear, the snippets of words from goodwitch. He could feel the rushing air past his face, the gale stinging his skin with tiny droplets of water. He could feel the impression of his teammate pressed against his back. Her tiny frame only reaching his upper back, her head between his shoulder blades, pressing his sword against his back.

He heard the engines of an airship, and the welcome heat of the engine's backwash. He opened his eyes to see a pair of bullheads landing by them, ramps descending to touch down on the platform.

Vasren rolled his shoulders and advanced towards the closest one, his team at his back. Electra maintained her position behind him, out of the worst of the wind. Nerada held her shield forwards, the wind splitting around it as she walked forwards, just to the right and a step behind her team leader. Malik was to her right, his golden brown hair flapping in the wind, his olive skin slightly reddened by wind chill.

Luckily for them, the interior of the airship was much warmer, the heat from the engines washing through the cabin. Vasren walked to the section nearest the nose and grabbed one of the overhead loops to balance himself.

Across from him, team CRDL walked into the cabin, dressed in full battle gear. Except that one guy with the Mohawk, he just wore a sleeveless shirt and goosebumps.

Cardin stared daggers at Vasren, who glanced at him indifferently.

"If it's this frickin cold in the mountains, I'm gonna freeze to death." Shouted Electra over the scream of the engines as the bullhead took off.

Vasren shouted an answer. "It's your own fault for wearing such thin clothing"

"Shut the hell up Vasren, I was bitching about the cold not asking for a lecture."

Nerada smirked. Malik rolled his eyes exasperatedly.

The door slid closed, finally shutting out the howling gale.

Vasren breathed a sigh of relief, his breath frosting in the frigid air. Electra relaxed a little as well, but still had her arms hugged across her chest for warmth. Nerada set Aurum aflame for a moment, heat rolling off it in waves to fill the cabin with a pleasant warmth.

The screen on the back wall of the cockpit bleeped, and an image of professor goodwitch appeared on it.

"VENM, CRDL, your missions will be to scale the mountain you will be dropped off at, the first team to reach the top will be the winner. The bullheads will be on standby, but calling for one will forfeit your grades for this class. May the best team win."

The screen shut off abruptly.

Vasren sighed and rolled his shoulders, popping his neck left and right. Nerada put out Aurum and sheathed the angular golden blade. Electra and Malik just stood normally, one hand gripping the handholds hanging from the ceiling for balance.

CRDL were talking quietly amongst themselves, and Cardin was casting venomous glances at Vasren constantly.

Vasren, however continued to ignore him .

The flight lasted a little over an hour, and was pretty comfortable for the most part. Vasren found Electra a small snow cloak in one of the onboard lockers, draping it around her shoulders and showing her how to fasten and unfasten it quickly.

Malik also retrieved one, but obviously knew his way around the garment already.

Nerada waved them off, pointing out that her own cape, and padded jumpsuit were warm enough as it was.

Before long Electra felt a subtle change in the foot-numbing vibrations felt through the deck plate. Then the pull of centripetal force as the bullhead made a banking turn. The door popped open, allowing them a view of the mountain.

It wasn't huge, for a mountain. But it was still easily a kilometer and a half of broken, jagged snow covered rock. Looked fun...

Vasren, who was standing next to her, was studying the rock face intently, deep, inscrutable violet eyes scanning across it. Documenting. Memorizing. Analyzing. It was kinda funny to watch, the way his face screwed up around the eyes and his lips moved slightly, as if he were talking to himself. Except, he was talking to himself. She could hear him, just barely over the wind.

"... Chasm. Ascend the switchbacks to the- no, avalanche. Perhaps the scree slope on the other face, which is even worse for avalanches, so that's gone. Maybe the rockfall there, no no no..."

How strange. Kinda almost cute though. Almost. Electra was definitely not interested in Vasren, whatever that pest Nerada said. That just wasn't who Electra was. Surely.

Electra caught herself staring, but even worse, Nerada caught her staring. Damn her and her patronizing little smile.

The ship slowed and descended to only a couple meters above ground. The pilots voice came through the intercom.

"VENM, go"

Vasren didn't need to be told twice, and leapt from the craft, landing in the snow below safely. Nerada and Malik jumped down next, Nerada clanking loudly as she hit, her skirt probably accounting for most of the racket. Electra landed next, almost flattening Nerada. Oops.

Nerada pulled Electra from the snow drift she was half buried in and looked up towards the mountain.

Vasren was stood ahead if them, head angle towards the mountain. He half turned to look over his team, analyzing. He shuffled slightly from the cold, then motioned towards the mountain up ahead. "Let's go, times wasting."

VENM nodded collectively and followed their leader into the oncoming snow.

The mountain was treacherous, the snow covered rocks and cracks that stole their footing. Malik was better used to this terrain than anyone else though. He had been climbing mountains since he was a small boy, back on his home island. His feet instinctively found the best footing, his claws digging into the ice next to the path, or what passed for a path here. His team struggled through the snow around him, the wind plucking at their clothing and blasting them with snowflakes and tiny pellets of ice. He felt right at home.

Nerada was standing at the front, shoulder to shoulder with Vasren, her shield raised against the howling gale. Electra struggled behind them, her snow cloak pulled tight around her, the fur lined hood pulled up over her head. Her smaller frame was of no help to her here. Up in the mountains, bigger is better. And Malik was the biggest of all of them, giving him the best heat conservation.

Ahead of him Vasren stopped and called a halt, raising one fist over his shoulder. Nerada stopped immediately, shield still up and cloak flapping in the wind. Electra wasn't looking where she was going and walked into Vasren, tripping over his foot and falling face first into the snow. Vasren knelt down and helped her up, brushing snow off her cloak. Malik pulled abreast of Nerada and looked ahead, whistling softly.

The break in the rock they had been following was cut across by a scree slope, the loose boulders sharp and jagged, like they had been blasted from the side of the edifice by explosives. Vasren assessed the terrain carefully. Nerada cursed softly. Electra just hugged her arms across her chest and shivered.

Vasren took two steps forwards, testing the ground with a foot. He turned around, the wind now blowing at him side on.

"Alright, the terrain here looks treacherous to say the least, be very careful where you place your feet, one misstep could cause an avalanche here." He turned and looked pointedly at Electra. "Electra, you are going to be carried across this part, your turning blue and you need to rest."

She glared back at him with fire in her eyes. "I'm fine dammit. I don't need your pity."

"But you do need my help, like it or not your freezing to death up here. Also your clothing is the least suited for the cold, and your short arms and legs aren't doing you any favors on this terrain either."

Electra looked ready to rip Vasren's throat out.

Vasren sighed and cast his eyes heavenward. "I'm not budging on this, you won't make it across the scree, not in snow this deep and wind this bad."

Electra looked out across the slope, her fear beginning to creep into her fiery gaze. She shivered, and hugged her arms across herself.

"Fucks sake fine." She spat, trudging towards Vasren angrily.

Malik had to suppress a laugh, seeing Electra humbled in this way was quite entertaining. Reckless little hothead. Vasren looked over at him, expression hidden behind his coat collar.

"Malik, you take point. Let us know if you find anything... unstable."

Malik sighed and walked abreast of Vasren, who had picked up Electra and hugged her close to his chest.

Electra was miserable. This was so far beyond embarrassing it wasn't even funny. She walked up to her team leader and glowered at him. If Vasren cared then he certainly didn't show it on his face. His normally death-white skin was reddened from the cold, and his too-deep violet eyes were still creepy. His unreadable, blank face was still blank and unreadable and annoying and unreadable. He stooped down and picked her up, one arm under her knees, the other around her shoulders. He pulled her tightly against his chest, inside the folds of his coat. Fuck this was annoying. She wrapped her arms around her chest and tucked her chin against her collar.

"Wrap your arms round my shoulder, try and support some of your own weight."

Electra glared at Vasren. Then complied. Grudgingly.

She pulled herself close against him, trying to shrink their silhouette. Vasren did up his coat, her still inside it. She rested her head on his chest, and closed her eyes. He wasn't wearing the thick ceramic chestplate he generally wore. Just a tough, serviceable black shirt. His coat wasn't sewn with the usual armor either. Weird. Almost as weird as...

"Your shoulder feels funny."

"What?"

"Your. Shoulder. Feels. Funny."

"Don't distract me, we're traversing a dangerous scree slope by footprints over a five hundred meter escarpment during a light blizzard."

"But it feels really weird, it doesn't have any give to it at all. And it's cold."

"We're in the snow, maybe it's frozen solid."

"Have I hit a nerve?"

"Hit anything, and with your semblance, we will tumble down this slope to our painful deaths. Not even quick and painful, just painful."

Electra made a dissatisfied noise and tucked herself further into his coat. It was still cold here, but bearable.

Vasren breathed a sigh of relief. Electra looked round and saw that the ground was once again solid under their feet. She squirmed, trying to free herself.

"I wouldn't, snow has collected here and it's thigh deep on me, you'd drown in it."

He turned his head up.

"Nerada, take point, use your shield to bash us a path through the snow."

Nera nodded and overtook Malik, the big lion Faunus stepping gracefully to the side.

Vasren looked above them.

"Looks like the trail hits a broken section up ahead, we can use that to climb up to the other trail, about fifty meters up from here."

Malik called back. "A hundred at least, the path slopes up towards the rockfall. Good news is that it looks stable, bad news is that we're gonna be fully exposed to the wind up there, this high up..." He blew a breath out through ballooned cheeks, only obvious because of the fog breath that billowed out of his mouth. "Keep a tight grip on the rocks."

Electra sighed and burrowed deeper against Vasren's chest. Fuck this class.

Electra hated the ascent. Every damn one of those twenty five minutes. She felt so useless, bundled up inside Vasren's god damned long coat. The worst part was that he was right, she couldn't have made the climb on her own, she simply wasn't tall enough. She hated that. They were on flatter ground now, but the snow was still exceptionally deep, even Malik was struggling. Up ahead was another scree slope, this one even less stable looking than before. At its base was a wide plateau, covered in smooth, undisturbed snow.

Electra wanted out, but somehow couldn't muster the will to say so. She just stayed inside the coat, clinging to Vasren like a child, safe and warm. Or as safe and warm as you could be on an unstable scree slope in the middle of a howling blizzard. She felt a change in Vasren's gait. More careful, slower.

Vasren unbuttoned his coat and gently set Electra down. She immediately hated it. The snow was shallower here, but still reached her knees. The wind was a bitch too, ripping across her pale skin and lashing at it with remorseless fury. Vasren looked down at her, violet eyes like wells of night.

"Don't worry, I'll carry you after this. But this scree is made of much smaller rock, and I can't be dexterous enough to traverse it while carrying you."

"F-fine, Just, p-pick me the fuck back up afterwards."

Vasren nodded and ushered her forwards.

"Follow the footprints, it's a lot easier going."

Electra nodded and started off, placing her feet carefully down on the snow covered rocks. She was breathing hard by the time she was halfway across, her legs shaking and muscles spasming as she shivered inside her cloak. Malik and Nerada were already across. Malik was looking up the scree slope towards the peak.

Vasren was only a step behind her, his coat billowing in the wind to stream out behind him. He occasionally reached over to steady her on the rougher sections.

Electra stepped forwards tentatively. Her feet slipping easily into the footprints already there. She shivered and took another step forwards.

Nerada called out encouragingly from the stable trail on the other side. Malik was still looking up at the peak, squinting into the blizzard. Suddenly his face drained of color.

"GET OFF THE SLOPE, NOW!"

A deafening rumble sounded from further up the slope, and a faint flash of orange could be seen, then swiftly forgotten as the dark, amorphous mass of an avalanche came rushing down towards them.

Electra felt herself yanked upwards into the crushing warmth of Vasren's coat. He then ran forwards, crouched low. The rumbling was getting louder very quickly.

Electra's world was reduced to flashes of bright images and indistinct impressions for the next several seconds. Vasren, head down and shoulders hunched, arms protectively around her. Nerada and Malik, tantalizingly close. Chunks of ice and rocks exploding across Vasren's back, sending shards of shrapnel everywhere. The blizzard wind stinging her face, each tiny piece of malicious snow stinging her like a red hot felt herself twist and start hurtling forwards. She saw Vasren get batted off the side of the mountain like a fly, a rock the size of a small car smashing him from his feet to tumble down the slope. She landed in the snow by Malik and Nerada, arms and legs akimbo. She immediately rolled over onto her back and looked down towards the scree slope, panic rising from her chest to force its way up her throat.

Vasren was hurt. Badly.

She ran to the edge of the ledge, looking down over the slope. The Avalanche had subsided, only a few small pebbles and bits of snow still gently rolling down the mountain. Vasren was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Vasren?" Asked Nerada, her face white with worry.

"I'm looking for him, but don't go down the- DAMMIT ELECTRA GET BACK HERE"

Electra wasn't listening. She had to get down the slope, she had to make sure he was alive. He had to be alive. He had to be.

Her ankle suddenly caught between a pair of rocks, trapping it painfully. Her body kept going, and she fell forwards, her head smacking the rocks painfully. Her vision went dark.

Nerada cursed furiously. This wasn't going well at all. First Vasren got caught in the avalanche thanks to Electra being slow, then the hothead herself runs down the unstable scree slope after him.

Malik coursed after her, his feet sure and stance perfect. Nerada followed him, sword sheathed and shield readied in case of any other rockfall. Electra had gone down, tripped over in the scree.

"Malik, find Vasren, I'll take care of Electra."

The Faunus nodded, then moved down towards the base of the scree, near the plateau. This was really not good. Vasren was probably buried under a layer of rock and ice.

Electra wasn't moving, the wind blew gently across her, rustling her clothing and hair. Nerada went to one knee beside her, and checked the small girl for a pulse. It was there, strong and regular. Then she looked across the rest of her. She had a bad cut across her scalp, which had bled down across her face, covering one eye. The blood was freezing, and looked like wax across half her head. The rest of her seemed fine except- oh no...

Her leg was trapped between two rocks, the shin was broken, without a doubt. The knee upwards was fine, if scratched and bruised.

This really wasn't good.

Nerada fished her scroll from the pack at the small of her back, hidden beneath her cape. She flipped it open and struggled to read the screen through the howling blizzard. She pressed the screen and checked on her team's aura levels.

Both hers and Malik's were basically fine, though depleted by about a third due to the cold. Electra's was down, and had been almost gone the whole time anyway. The mountain hadn't been kind to the slight girl. Vasren's was totally down as well, but his vital signs were still there otherwise. That was good news at least.

Malik shouted from further down, then pointed.

Vasren was barely visible to her through the overcast darkness and now furious blizzard. He had crawled from beneath a pile of small rocks and chunks of snow and ice. His right arm was dragging, useless. His hat was gone, blown off in the wind somewhere. He staggered to his feet on the plateau, some fifty feet below them.

Nerada sighed in relief and began extricating Electra from the rocks. She had just picked her up when a deafening roar sounded from lower down on the mountainside. Nerada turned to peer through the snow, her eyes squinted against the blisteringly cold wind.

What she saw made her stomach clench in fear.

An Ursa Major was shambling out of the snow. It was huge, even hunched over it was twelve or fifteen feet tall. It's claws were as long as short swords, and it's arms and back bristled with long, jagged spines and armor plates.

It snuffled the ground, pushing its nose through the deep snow and across the rocks. Then it stopped, and stood stock still. Oh no.

It roared again, and charged off into the snow, bone blades flashing and clawed feet throwing up flurries of snow with each step.

Nerada began to dash down the slope, Electra cradled in one arm, Aeris held ready in the other. Malik was ahead of her, leaping and bounding down the slope with inhuman balance and reflexes, he seemingly moved faster than was possible, feet barely touching the ground.

Nerada was slower, but just as sure.

She could hear the sounds of battle from further down the mountain, on the plateau. The unmistakable boom of Vasren's heavy cannon, the enraged screams of the Ursa, Malik's own war shouts.

Nerada tripped and fell, a rock simply giving way and crumbling under her weight. She twisted midair and landed on her shield, the massive armor plate skidding across the rocks. Electra slipped free of her grasp, the slight, badly hurt girl hurtling down the face of the mountain. They both landed in the deep snow of the plateau.

Nerada stood up, dazed and struggled to regain her balance.

She shook her head to clear it and looked towards the fight.

Malik smashed into her, the big Faunus knocking her from her feet and then lying across her chest, pinning her. He stood up slowly, shaking his head in a daze.

Vasren was fighting the Ursa alone. He was retreating slowly, his right knee bent at an angle that it physically shouldn't be able to exist at. His right arm gripped his heavy double bladed sword. Or what was left of it. Both the blades had been snapped off near the hilt, only leaving about six inches of blade. The cannon seemed intact, though he had clearly run out of ammo. The Ursa mayor swiped at him, the claws raking across his chest. The impact tossed him backwards into the rockfall, dazed. Nerada rushed forwards, shield raised and sword trailing behind her, the fire dust within the blade igniting, bathing the golden blade in fire. The Ursa lunged forwards, jaws agape. Vasren raised his right arm to block, but his leg gave out and he fell backwards. The Grimm's jaws clamped around him upper arm, the teeth puncturing his coat to sink deep into the arm beneath. Then, it shook its head, tearing the arm from its socket in a spray of blood.

Nerada heard a scream behind her, a horrified, desperate scream. She summoned her semblance, calling on the force of the relentless gale that had been battering her all day, focusing it to her right fist. She slammed it against the back of her shield, in the centre. Her semblance exploded outwards, releasing the pent up force gathered about her fist straight into the shield. The layers of crystallized dust and interlocking steel plates focussed the force towards the boss at the centre of Aeris. The force exploded outwards, shaped roughly into an expanding dome, its apex directly over the boss of her shield. The shockwave blasted towards the gigantic Ursa, scraping snow from the ground and carrying the slowly falling particles with it. The wave hit the Ursa like a truck. It was flipped over on its side, it's spikes digging into the snow. Nerada charged forwards and buried Aurum deep in its belly, the fiery blade hissing as the Ursa's flesh cooked and swelled. She jacked the sword out and prepared for a second strike sword point aimed for its rib cage.

The Ursa, however, was not dead yet.

It kicked her with one of its stubbier hind legs, the impact throwing her backwards through the snow. Malik ran next to her, out of breath and still a little dazed from his short flight across the ice.

"Nerada, go get an airship, I've got the Ursa."

"You sure?"

"Positive, now go."

Nerada nodded and sprinted towards Vasren, her left hand covering her side with Aeris, her right hand grabbing for the flare gun she had been issued.

Malik was wreathed in a reddish gold light, and was staring down the Ursa as it roared at his face in a bid to intimidate him. Malik grinned a feral grin, then charged the gigantic Grimm head on.

He moved with unnatural speed and grace, every movement precise, choreographed. The red-gold glow of his aura suffused his muscles with unnatural speed and precision.

The two feral being clashed in a flurry of churned snow and vicious roaring.

Nerada's hand closed around the handle of the flare gun, and she fired it straight upwards, the golden projectile arcing upwards, trailing an intense glow. She hoped against hope that the pilots would be able to see it.

She reached Vasren a moment later, and was stopped short at what she saw.

He was a mess.

His body was covered in abrasions, bleeds and breaks from the tumble with the Avalanche. That alone must have depleted his aura and then some. But his whole left side was ripped open, the skin torn open to reveal the muscles and blood vessels beneath. She could even see a couple of his ribs. And his arm, Dust his arm. The rip was covered by the shredded remains of his coat, a fact for which she was immensely glad. She gathered armfuls of snow and packed them into his wounds, trying to stop the bleeding. According to her scroll he was still alive, barely. But his dreams of becoming a huntsman were over, there was no way he could fight without his right arm, or the use of his right leg, which, from the angle it was at, would never function properly again.

She heard a rustle next to her, then a horrified gasp.

Electra.

The short, violent, hotheaded girl was stood there, staring at Vasren's ripped and torn form with utter, and total shock. She fell to her knees and screamed. It was a gut wrenching, grief stricken sound. She keened and cried and screamed at the top of her lungs.

Nerada felt her heart reach out for the poor girl.

She turned and saw Malik still battling the giant Ursa. He was amazing. His burly, muscular frame belied the grace and speed of his motion. He dodged around the clumsy sweeps of the Ursa's paws, and struck back with his own strikes. The dual blades mounted above each wrist sliced easily through muscle, tendon and bone. The huge, curved knives in each hand were also at work, cleaving away at the Grimm in concert with the claws.

The Ursa collapsed. The tendons in all four limbs parted with sickening ease. Malik finished it quickly, driving his claws into its neck and severing its spine.

Nerada turned back to Vasren, who was still clinging tenaciously onto life, though he was mercifully unconscious. Electra hadn't stopped keening, and was still crying onto his chest, her arms cradling his head in her lap.

She was a damned mess as well. She had a cut on her scalp, which had bled profusely all down her face and through her hair. The blood had frozen before it had dried, and was currently matting her hair together. Her leg was broken badly, and her desperate run over to Vasren had turned a badly broken leg into a full blown compound fracture. Nerada suspected her tears and screaming had more than a little pain in them. She hoped the cold was numbing the injury.

Malik arrived over by them, breathing hard, and Grimm blood evaporating off his blade. He cursed when he saw the other two members of VENM.

The howling wind was suddenly cut through by another noise. The backwash of jet engines. The bullhead appeared out from the blizzard. It was the most gladdening thing Nerada had ever seen.

The ramp lowered to reveal professor the interior of the ship, a pair of medics already waiting for them. Nerada waved them over desperately. The bullhead landed directly next to them, the medics running out to inspect the wounded students.

Nerada rocked back on her knees and leant against Aeris. She spoke just loudly enough for Malik to hear her.

"Malik... Go get... Go get Vasren's arm, and his sword as well if you can find it."

Malik blanched, then nodded and walked off into the snow.

The medics swiftly transported Vasren and Electra into the airship, both sedated. Nerada rushed aboard as well, dropping Aeris against one wall and pulling off her gauntlets hurriedly. She rushed over to the two medics, who were moving about franticly. She tucked her copper colored hair behind her head and moved over to help the medics.

One of them looked up at her gratefully, the other had her back turned and was fussing over Electra. Nerada pulled a dagger from a sheath at her thigh and split Vasren's shirt open, pulling the fabric from him to expose the wounds.

What she found, just about stopped her heart.

The entire right hand side of his body was horribly scarred. But not the thick, ropy scars of old cuts, the rippling, rendered scars of old burns. What was more, most of the scars were covered by steel plates which wrapped around his torso, fixed to his rib cage. No. Not fixed to his ribs, replacing them. About half of his ribs were steel. In addition almost his entire right shoulder was made of grafted on steel prosthetics. His right leg was metal, as was a part of his hip.

Whatever had happened to the poor boy, it had all but torn him in half.

Malik rushed aboard, gingerly holding Vasren's wrecked arm, still covered in a blood soaked sleeve. In his other hand was the shattered remains of Vasren's sword. He skidded to a halt inside and urged to pilot to take off.

He put testament down in one of the onboard lockers, and rushed over to Nerada and the medics, who were still working on stopping the bleeding from Vasren's chest. He stopped short once he saw the state of Vasren's right side, the hideous scars and prosthetics that stretched across it. Nerada reached up and grabbed the arm from his grasp, setting it down on the deck next to Vasren. She tore off the sleeve and gasped in horror.

The arm was metal as well, the stump at one end was a mess of twisted gears and shattered metal. But running through it were pipes, filled with blood. It was these that had produced such the spray of Crimson when the Ursa had torn off his arm.

Nerada sat back and laced her blood soaked hands behind her head, the rust colored liquid matting her coppery hair together.

What the hell was going on here?


	9. Chapter 9, Agony

**Hello again everyone, this is the mighty inquisitor ryke back with VENM. First I am going to apologize for the slow uploads, but I haven't had the most time to write recently. Next piece of news is that I am going to be starting a new story. It will be titled the glass alchemist, and will take place seven years after the events of fullmetal alchemist, brotherhood. This will be uploaded alongside VENM, so don't worry. I may also upload a warhammer 40k fic as well, called the war for Phoenicia. Let me know what you think of these ideas.**

**have a pleasant read.**

Chapter ten, Agony.

Electra could barely see a thing, all she was aware of was the throbbing, agonizing pain coursing up from her leg. She was a damned fool. She had known the leg was broken, the shin snapped from her fall. Yet even so she had run across the whole damn plateau on it. The bone had torn through the skin on the front of her shin, poking out grotesquely. It had hurt like hell. Still did. She could dimly see the sky above her now, still mid afternoon going by the sun. Or maybe morning. She could hear the wheels of the gurney she was on clattering against the stone of the path. She could feel the numbing vibration of the motion as well, jitteriness up her spine and all through her limbs. She could hear horrified gasps and murmurs from the students they rolled past. She caught a glimpse of Nerada walking next to her bed, still armed and armored. She had blood smeared on her cheek and matted in her hair.

The leg began to throb more insistently. She groaned in pain, trying to move it to get a good look at it.

She heard Nerada talking to a medic.

"Her sedatives are wearing off."

"Nothing I can do about that, I pumped all the stuff I have left into this poor bastard."

Poor bastard? Her drug addled brain pushed for the relevant memories. It was like putting together a puzzle while wearing winter gloves. The pieces just kept slipping away from her, falling back into the cardboard box of her memory. Ugh, that analogy didn't work, dumb sedative messing with her head.

She shifted a little on the bed, propping herself up on her elbows in order to look around. It didn't work, her arms were completely limp, no feeling in them at all. Damn her leg hurt. She raised her head and looked down herself. She caught sight of her leg. It was swollen and purple, with dried blood all over the front of it. Her leggings were damn near gone altogether from the impact as well. Or did the medics cut them off?

Suddenly it all rushed back. She remembered the climb up the mountain, being bundled up in Vasren's coat, the fall down the scree slope, the Ursa. Oh Dust, Oh Dust. The pain in her leg started to return, shooting upwards like a hundred thousand red hot needles.

She thrashed and screamed, giving voice to the crippling agony and guilt colliding within her. Nerada cursed above her, telling the medics to hurry up. The medic might have said something. Electra didn't know or care. She screamed as loud as she could, the blinding hot agony in her leg screaming in tandem.

The gurney eventually slewed to a halt, and was parked outside of a room, just in the waiting room adjoining it. It was a smallish room, roughly oblong but with smooth, rounded corners. There was a bench along one wall, and a potted plant in the corner. The wall opposite the bench was glass, allowing a clear view into the operating room. Electra didn't care, her leg and guilt were both hammering at her, clawing around inside her skull like a tortured animal. All she felt was agony.

She dimly saw Nerada above her, grabbing a hypodermic syringe from a medic, before ordering the man inside the operating room. Nerada rolled up Electra's skirt on her injured leg, and sank the needle into her thigh.

The relief was almost instant. All sensation in the leg died, instead there was just a weird, fuzzy grey feeling. She stopped screaming, the compound fracture in her leg had stopped screaming at her. Unfortunately that allowed her to feel all the other injuries she had sustained. Her head pounded. The frozen blood on her face was melting and drying, gumming her eye shut. Her left hand felt really strange, it was unbearably cold and had no feeling in it at all. Well, except the burning cold. Her other leg was in pain as well. It felt like that time big Jim had walloped her across the chest with a cricket bat. Her boobs had hurt for two weeks after that. But her ribs had been cracked as well. So her leg was probably broken as well. Just not quite as... graphic as the purple leg.

But the worst pain curled deep in her stomach, reaching up through her blood to burn at her eyes and swell up through her throat.

Guilt.

She had just killed Vasren. Damn her. Damn her and her weakness. She had moved too slowly across the rubble, dawdling around like it was some primary school field trip. And he had been caught in the avalanche. The image was burned into the back of her eyes. The scene replayed over and over on her eyelids, tormenting her whenever she closed her eyes.

Vasren standing on the scree slope, coat flaring out behind him in the wind, small rocks and chunks of snow already pattering off him. A moment later a huge, jagged boulder slammed into him from the side, tossing him down the slope like a rag doll thrown by a toddler.

Then the Ursa...

She screwed up her eyes, tears coming in a hot rush. She curled up an wept piteously, her delicate frame shaking uncontrollably.

Nerada was sitting on the bench, exhausted. Malik was actually sleep in the corner, sprawled out haphazardly. His claws were still unsheathed.

Nerada stood up and walked over to her teammate, looking down at the grief stricken girl with warm eyes full of sympathy. She reached down and gathered her up in her arms, leaving her injured legs on the table, while her arms wrapped around her body in a comforting embrace. Electra sobbed and pushed her away violently, still crying. The move unbalanced her however, and she knocked the gurney into the wall. The impact shook her and she toppled off the wheeled bed, landing hard on the floor. Nerada was glad she didn't land on her destroyed right leg. Electra shouted in pain and clutched her stomach, still crying.

Nerada sighed and stood by the glass, looking into the surgery room. Vasren was lying on the table, stripped but for his trousers, which had been hacked short. The doctors rushed around him madly, tools and syringes being passed back and forth like mad.

One of them rushed over to the wall, calling back instructions to the rest of his team. His hand skated expertly over the controls on a holo panel. After a moment he turned around back into the flurry of activity in the centre of the room.

Nerada waited nervously, biting her lower lip nervously. Malik just lay there, but mercifully didn't snore.

Electra's cries began to wane, until she was just convulsing on the ground. Nerada sat down next to her, and leaned against the glass wall of the room. She removed her helmet, letting her bloodied copper hair spill down her back and around her shoulders. Electra rolled over onto her back, breathing deep, ragged breaths. She turned her head to look at Nerada, her azure eyes filled with pain. Nerada reached out and pulled Electra up to sit next to her, pulling the diminutive girl into a hug. Electra didn't try to break out this time, and just clung to her shoulders, nuzzling her face into the crook of Nerada's neck. Nerada whispered assurances into her injured friend's ear, rubbing her back with one hand.

It was jarring to see Electra like this. She was suddenly not the larger than life, hotheaded, violent huntress in training. Now she was a small, hurt girl. A small, hurt girl who needed comfort.

Electra started sobbing gently again, her slim shoulders shaking with grief.

Nerada continued in her attempts to comfort her stricken teammate, rubbing her back in slow circles.

It wasn't clear how long they sat there, Electra crying out her grief as Nerada comforted her. Eventually though, Electra disengaged herself and sat down next to her teammate, shoulder to armored shoulder. Nerada cast her warm, golden eyes across her friend, and waited for her to speak.

Electra ran a hand across her head, smearing the blood on her pale skin. "Do..." She swallowed. "Do you think he'll be alright?"

Nerada bit her lip a moment. "Probably, he's a lot tougher than he looks."

Electra nodded, then slumped backwards, eyes tearing up again. "Oh dust, it's my fault. If I hadn't been so..." She choked back a sob, then swallowed.

Nerada put an arm around her shoulders again.

"There's nothing you could have done, and there was no way in hell you could have predicted the avalanche. And even so, the only thing that's going to happen to our fearless leader is the pair of lovely new scars on his left hand side."

"But, his arm..."

"Yeah... When the airship arrived they sedated you right away, so I guess you didn't see." She swallowed. "Vasren's arm was, metal. It was a prosthetic arm. I guess that's why he was so strong, you know. And the rest of his right side, a lot of that was metal as well. What wasn't metal was really badly scarred."

Electra looked stunned. "He's... he's got a metal arm? And leg? How did we not know?"

"And why did he not tell us."

Electra drew in a ragged breath.

"Yeah, that too"

Nerada glanced over her shoulder. The surgeons had lost their frantic energy, and were now working at a steady, methodical pace. That was probably good.

She turned around to talk to Electra again, only to find the tiny girl asleep against her side. She wrapped her red cape around Electra's shoulders, bundling her up. She cast another glance back at Vasren, who was still swarmed by surgeons.

It was going to be a long day.


	10. Chapter 10, The Crow

HELLO AGAIN EVERYONE.

Firstly I'm sorry for the long wait, I'll be trying to make these uploads more frequent in future. In any case I hope you have a pleasant read, and don't forget to leave a review, with any criticism, suggestions, or anything else you wish to say.

Chapter ten, the crow.

Electra hated being confused. But that was, at the moment, the only feeling in her mind. And depression. But mostly confusion.

Vasren was still out. He was supposed to have woken up from the chemically induced coma the doctors had put him in, but he hadn't. The doctor had said his aura was still healing the damage, so it was likely he would wake up later, when most of the damage had been fixed.

Electra sighed. He looked so peaceful like this. Just lying there, face serene and relaxed. His haunting purple eyes were closed, and his hair lay around his head like a shadow.

He wasn't going to wake up today.

Electra spun herself around and wheeled herself out of the infirmary. The doctors had insisted she use a wheelchair for a while. She hated it. At first she had tried to leave it in the ward. She hadn't made it ten paces before her leg gave out and she collapsed, screaming in pain. She had put up with it after that.

She wheeled herself into the hallway, skidding as she turned. She set her hands to the wheels and started powering forwards, weaving between the foot traffic in the corridor with reckless abandon. Just because she was in a wheel chair didn't mean she had to go slowly now did it? She arrived at the door quickly, skidding as she turned into the door. The wheelchair bounced off the doorframe and toppled over, spilling its passenger unceremoniously onto the floor. She cursed and prized herself into a sitting position, wincing at her bandaged left hand. She looked up and nearly had a heart attack.

Nerada was sitting on her bed, dressed in school uniform. Opposite her stood professor ozpin. Both of them were looking at her curiously.

Ozpin broke the silence first. "Hello, miss Alvarez".

Electra nodded, and hopped back into her wheelchair, keeping her injured leg off the floor the whole time.

Nerada was wringing her hands. "So... you don't know anything about it?"

Ozpin turned to her. "Quite the opposite, in fact. However, his past is a complex one, and I will not tell you without his permission. That is a tale he will have to tell you himself."

Nerada nodded, but didn't look happy. Electra piped up. "Are we talking about Vasren?"

Nerada nodded again. "Yeah"

"The doctors say he's doing well, at this rate, he should be healed by in about a week."

Professor ozpin glanced down at Electra. "And when will you be healed miss Alvarez?"

Electra shifted uncomfortably. "My leg will be healed in a week or two, my hand though" she swallowed. "Different story there"

"May I see?"

Electra held up her left hand mutely, looking away pointedly.

The hand was maimed. Ozpin's eyes traced over the empty space her little finger should have occupied, and the scars traced over the back of her hand.

"It was frostbite, when I fell into the snow my hand just froze, they had to cut the finger off."

"You seem unusually well adjusted."

Electra glanced guiltily at the IV drip attached to her wrist. Ozpin noticed immediately.

"Ah, I see"

He straightened and turned to leave.

"Oh, professor, one quick thing."

Ozpin turned to face Electra.

"What is Vasren's symbol? I haven't been able to find it anywhere, and I need it for a surprise I wanted to make him."

Ozpin paused a second, considering. "He doesn't have a symbol."

He nodded to them and excused himself, leaving the girls puzzled.

Electra glanced over at her friend, eyebrows raised.

"No symbol? What kind of fighter doesn't have a symbol?"

Nerada laughed and shook her head ruefully. "Only our cryptic leader could manage to be that mysterious. Hidden prosthetics, no symbol, past shrouded in mystery, God that man gives me a headache."

Electra nodded halfheartedly. Nerada got a sly look in her eye.

"Say, what surprise were you working on for Vasren?"

"Uh, the none of your damn business kind"

"Oh, I see. It's the kind where you take off all your clothes in front of him then."

Electra's pale face burned a sudden scarlet. "What? No!"

"Oh but you were thinking about it just then weren't you?"

"NO, why would I?"

"Because of the color your face just turned."

"If I wasn't in this wheelchair you wound be twitching on the floor like a broken toy right now."

Nerada laughed warmly. "I was just kidding around, it's fine."

Electra glared at her, then span herself round in her wheelchair absently.

"But seriously, what were you going to make him?"

Electra stopped spinning and turned to face Nerada. "A new coat, you know, since his old one was turned into tiny blood soaked scraps."

"I see, so you needed his symbol so you could sew it onto the coat."

"Almost there, but you are making the mistake of assuming I was going to make the coat myself, in actual fact I am far too lazy and so I was going to get a tailor to do it."

Nerada shrugged. "Fair enough."

Electra bit her lip and tapped her fingers on the armrest of her chair. "Since mister dark and mysterious doesn't have a symbol..."

Nerada looked at her curiously. "What?"

"We should make one for him"

Nerada looked dubious at that. "I don't know about that, your symbol is something personal. I don't think we should make one for him."

Electra gave her a flat look. "You are no fun at all. Besides, I had my symbol made for me, what about yours?"

Nerada looked down. "Mine was given to me by one of my teachers, along with my shield and armor."

Electra folded her arms and grinned triumphantly. "Well there you go, we're making his symbol."

Nerada rolled her eyes and reached under her pillow, withdrawing a large sketchbook.

"Let's go then"

Electra wheeled herself over to Nerada, skidding in next to her. She grabbed the sketchbook off her teammate and wheeled across the room, laughing uncontrollably. Nerada set off immediately in pursuit.

"Hey, come on, give it back"

Electra stuck her tongue out at her and span around keeping her back to Nerada the whole time. "You would hurt an invalid?"

"No, but I just might turn off your morphine"

"What? Uh... no, don't do that."

"Then give me back the sketchbook."

"Fine... Right after I have a little look see."

She flipped the book open to a random page, scanning the paper. It was of a duel. On the left was a slim girl with long hair and a spear. She was swinging a long strike towards her opponent, who had ducked beneath it and was lashing out in turn. Lashing out with arcs of lightning. Electra remembered the girl, Opal Harper. This picture was a perfect depiction of her, right down to the small weights woven into her hair. Her opponent was none other than Electra herself. This picture was also perfect. It captured her short, athletic frame, her pose and drawing exuded the fierceness that Electra so prided herself on. Her weapons were picked out in exquisite detail, down to the lightning bolt patterns spreading out across the back of the glove and the spools of wire below the wrist.

Nerada was wringing her hands, and biting her lip nervously.

Electra flipped to another page. Malik fighting dove bronzewing, his claws slicing the air towards the swordsman, who reeled back from the blows. Malik's face was set in a primal mask, roaring savagely. Combined with his sideburns and longish, messy hair, he looked very much like the roaring lion head of his emblem.

Next page, Electra again, standing alone, facing towards the observer, lightning crackled from her bare fingertips, illuminating her only from the sides. Her face was in shadow, only impressions showing. The glint of her eyes, the curve of her lips, the pale shape of her cheekbones.

Next page, Vasren, in full combat gear, in a duel. His opponent is a lithe fighter wielding a pair of axes. Vasren's heavy sword was crashing through his block, sending him flying backwards. His other hand is extended out the other way. His coat was sent fanning outwards by the centripetal force, and his face is framed by his jaw length black hair.

Electra gently touched the picture of Vasren, her fingertip gently tracing along his face. Her breath caught in her throat and she swallowed hard.

She felt Nerada's gentle hand on her shoulder. It just sat there, the first reassuring touch she had felt in years. She closed the book and handed it back, her breath still feeling constricted. Nerada looked down at her, instantly understanding her plight.

"You love him. Don't you?"

Electra choked back a sob and raked her hair back behind her ears. Her slight shoulders were shaking, and her good hand was clenched into a fist.

"I... I don't know. I just..." She sucked in a ragged breath and wiped her sleeve across her eyes.

"Anyway, symbol..."

Nerada nodded reluctantly and sat down, flipping her sketchbook to a clean page. She wrote Vasren's name at the top in smooth, flowing script. Vasren Corvus.

Nerada started chewing the end of her pencil, studying the paper critically.

"Any ideas?"

Electra shook her head mutely.

Nerada slowly drew a circle in the middle of the page, to serve as a field.

Electra suddenly snapped her fingers.

"His name, I think I saw somewhere that Corvus means raven, in some old language or something."

Nerada smiled, and her pen began to flow across the page, seemingly of its own free will. It began to trace the outline of a wing, then a whole bird. Electra scooted over and watched with fascination. The bird was facing upwards, it's wings were half spread, as if just taking flight. The beak was closed, and it's head was in profile, beak dipped towards the bottom of the circle slightly. It's claws were outstretched, it's talons picked out in exquisite detail.

Nerada held the paper back and looked at it critically. Then she drew another circle beneath it and began to draw again. This Raven was the same size, in the same pose, but stylized. It was composed of hard edged shapes, and lacked the level of realism and detail of the first drawing.

Nerada looked again at her finished work, and nodded. "That should do nicely"

She turned to the next page and began to draw again. Sketchy lines took the shape of a high collar, and proud shoulders. More lines drew sleeves and a lapel. Two long lines slid down the page to form the folds of a greatcoat. Electra turned and wheeled over to the window, looking out at the rolling green fields of the campus. Nerada's question rang in her head, echoing back and forth.

Did she love him? What did she feel for him? She rubbed her forehead and eyelids, holding her face in her hand. She sure as hell couldn't get him out of her head. It had been a week since the mountain, but she barely remembered it. Some side effect of the sedatives apparently. She did remember everything up to the fall though. She had almost enjoyed that bit, except the bone numbing cold of course, that went without saying. But she hadn't minded being bundled up with Vasren, it had been warm, secure, and comfortable.

She gripped her hair hard and clenched her fist, pulling at the roots painfully. Damn him. Damn him for making her so confused. She turned up her morphine a little, washing away the stabbing ache in her leg. Unfortunately the other chemicals mixed in with it were also starting to tell, and a wave of drowsiness swept over her. Her eyes fluttered closed and she quickly fell asleep to the sound of Nerada's scratching pencil.

Vasren lay as still as ever. The only movement was the rise and fall of his chest, and the slow fluttering under his eyelids that meant he was dreaming. He should be on his feet in a couple of days, although he still wouldn't be fully healed. Malik shifted slightly in his seat, considering his fallen leader. It was strange to see him like this. He wasn't the tall, dark, cold figure anymore, he seemed smaller, and more vulnerable.

Malik was still making his mind up about his leader. On one hand, he was an experienced tactical thinker, capable of making decisive moves very quickly. He was a strong, brutal fighter. But reprimanding him for helping a fellow Faunus still rankled with him. He had a right to protect people. It was his duty, the reason he had come to beacon. Denying him that wasn't something that sat well with him. He sighed and stood up, straightening his uniform. He turned to leave, and came face to face with a small crowd of people. Official looking people.

Several of them stepped past him, taking up positions around Vasren's bed and beginning to maneuver him out of the ward, taking all the medical equipment with them. Malik turned and grabbed one of them on the shoulder.

"Where are you taking him?"

The man turned and studied him for a moment.

"We're replacing his arm."

Malik nodded, and let the man go.

Where the hell had Vasren gotten his arm from? These guys seemed pretty serious.

Malik bit one of his claws, chewing gently. He should go tell the other two.

Professor ozpin stood outside the operating theater, regarding the procedure taking place with some interest. He had held Vasren in high regard since he had seen him fight a series of criminals on a train once, in a news broadcast. After that, he spoke with the boy's employer, and found out more about him. The boy was a natural with both his sword, and his sharp tactical mind. Ozpin wasn't in the habit of letting such rare talent slip through his fingers. He had invited Vasren to join the school when he was only fifteen years old, a move he had only repeated upon seeing miss rose fight. However tragedy had struck, and the boy had come within an inch of death, only staying alive thanks to a life support array strapped to his destroyed right side. Ozpin had been sorely disappointed at this turn of events, and had talked to ironwood about it during one of their occasional chats. Ironwood had offered a solution. He had been in touch with a team of researchers, who had needed to test different methods of aura transmission through inanimate objects for some reason. Using their expertise in robotics as well, they had successfully given the boy extensive prosthetic work powered by his own aura. Quite ingenious really. Ozpin had called them here to replace and repair the young student's prosthetic limbs and side. He sipped his coffee, the bitter liquid spilling pleasantly across his pallet.

The boy would be fine in a week.

Malik opened the door to his dorm room and peeked inside. Electra was sitting on her wheelchair. He noticed her morphine was just slightly above recommend levels. She was still wearing her usual clothing, minus her black leggings, which wouldn't have fit over her cast and splint. Her denim jacket was gone as well, leaving only her black and blue top and skirt. Next to her sat Nerada, who was wearing her beacon school uniform. Her armor was on a mannequin against the wall, along with her weapons. Even in the school uniform, she looked radiant. Probably that slightly golden skin interacting with the lights in the room.

Both the girls seemed interested in whatever was on Electra's bed. He stepped inside and closed the door, ensuring it made a noise so they would hear him.

Nerada turned to look at him a moment, then beckoned him him over.

He walked forwards, his tread eerily silent. He stood behind the two girls and looked down at whatever they had on the bed.

It was a black long coat. Vasren's black long coat. No, it looked similar, but it was definitely different. The material was still black, and still tough, but had a smoother look to it. The whole thing actually looked just a bit more refined, and much better made. Across the shoulders was and additional layer of fabric, though this was a stark white. On the breast of the coat was a symbol. It was a white circle, with a stylized black Raven inside it. The trim at the bottom of the tail and at the cuffs was the same white.

Nerada smoothed out a crease in the fabric. "So, what do you think, Malik?"

Malik paused a moment. "I like it, I think it'll suit him well."

Nerada nodded to herself. "Excellent, only one thing left to do now."

She reached under the bed and withdrew what was left of Vasren's sword. It was in a truly sorry state. The hilt was badly damaged, the angular forwards sweeping cross-guards were bent out of shape, and the cannon assembly was split apart. The twin blades were shattered completely, only small stumps of the colossal blades remained attached to the hilt.

Malik shivered. He couldn't imagine how he would feel if his claws were destroyed so completely. They were a part of him.

Nerada stood up and stretched. She turned to Malik.

"Know of anyone who could help repair this?"

Malik thought a moment.

"Maybe, one of my friends is a bit of a weapons nut."

Nerada looked shocked. "What? You have friends? I thought you just prowled around the grounds like a creepy stalker person."

Malik growled slightly, the sound rumbling at the back of his throat.

"Oh come on, stop taking these things so seriously." Nerada said, exasperated. She grabbed his arm and span him around to face the door.

"Come on, let's go"

Electra whooped and wheeled herself towards the door. Nerada turned around and grabbed her wheelchair, stopping her.

"Oh no, you are staying here young lady. As I recall you still haven't finished the essay for professor oobleck's class."

Electra glared at her.

"Don't give me that look, besides, you need to be resting up."

She pushed Electra back into the dorm and shut the door firmly.

Malik stood nearby, stance relaxed, though possessed of the same predatory grace of all his movements. Nerada walked up to him. Her stance was different. Malik noticed everything, his golden hunters eyes flicking across her. Her stance conveyed strength, and confidence. Her shoulders were set squarely, and she stood straight on to Malik. It was an honest, open stance as well. Her hands were open at her sides, indicating that same openness and trust. Malik almost felt flattered.

He motioned down the corridor. "My friend's dorm is this way."

He turned and started down the corridor, Nerada falling into step beside him.

"So, how have you been lately?"

Malik shrugged. "Fine I guess. Can't complain."

Nerada's eyes narrowed. "You feel you can't, but you want to."

Malik stiffened, and looked pointedly forwards.

Nerada, however, was relentless.

"What happened between you and Vasren? And I know something did. They way you avoid him makes it so far beyond obvious it isn't even funny."

Malik glared at her.

"And don't bother with that crap either, tell me what happened."

Malik ground his teeth. "A few weeks ago I was just out in the grounds, relaxing. The bell went and I started towards my next class, when a saw, or rather heard, that brute Cardin harassing a Faunus girl. He pulled on her tail. I leapt at him, I was so consumed with anger. I knocked him over and started beating the crap out of him, but then the rest of his team arrived and knocked me down. Vasren intervened almost instantly. I'm sure you've seen what he can do in hand to hand combat. CRDL didn't stand a chance. But afterwards, he scolded me for getting involved in the first place. He said that if the girl had needed my help, she didn't deserve to be at beacon."

He sighed raggedly. "I don't know what to think of him."

Nerada pursed her lips.

"He's a puzzle, that's for sure." She paused, lips pursed. "I don't really know who to side with. We joined beacon to fight to protect people, and berating you for that I don't know about. However, in saying that, what you did was wrong. You overreacted and made an enemy of CRDL. In that respect Vasren was quite correct."

Malik nodded unhappily.

"We're here." He said motioning to a door on his right. he paused a moment, and turned to his teammate.

He rapped on the door with one knuckle, the sound ringing out through the hall.

A short girl with short black hair and silver eyes opened it, looking out at them.

"Hello there. Can I help you?" She looked towards Malik. "Oh, hello Mal, long time no see, huh?"

Malik laughed ruefully. "Yeah, sorry about that."

Nerada suddenly snapped her fingers.

"You're the girl Vasren dueled on the first day. Ruby, right?"

The girl nodded. Her eyes shone with an honest, earnest light. Nerada immediately took a liking to her. She was like Electra a little. But happy, not bitter and snarky.

"Yep, that was me." She closed her eyes and scratched the back of her head. "That was a hard fight, his sword kinda felt more like a sledgehammer."

Nerada nodded. "I'm not surprised." She paused. "So... Are you any good with weapons?"

Ruby nodded, looking interested.

"Good, because we need to repair, slash reconstruct, our team leader's sword. Malik said you might be able to help."

Ruby hopped slightly in excitement. "Oh! I'd love to, let me go get my stuff!"

She dashed inside. Nerada smiled and turned to face Malik, who looked quite restless. She arched a quizzical eyebrow at him.

"She's a bit young for you isn't she?"

Malik growled. "I've talked to her a total of twice, I'm not interested."

Nerada nodded. Ruby bounded out of the room, her collapsed scythe on her back and a bag in her hands.

"Let's go! To the workshop!"

She span on her heel and marched smartly down the hall towards the workshop building. Nerada chuckled and followed her, Malik a step behind.

The workshop was a wide open space, with large cabinates of materials. Every alloy under the sun, along with facilities to make new ones. There were bottles of dust all around the shelves, and different kinds of test ammo as well.

There were rows of desks, power tools, forges and anvils. There was even some very high tech equipment Nerada didn't recognize. Although she did recognize the laser, that much was easy.

Ruby walked over to one of the workbenches, and plonked her bag down. Nerada withdrew testament's hilt from her satchel, and placed it next to the bag, along with several large sections of the blade.

Ruby rubbed her hands and picked the object up, eyes widening a little at the weight.

"No wonder this hit like a sledgehammer, this thing is heavy."

Nerada nodded. "Yeah, whatever this is made of, it isn't steel, it's too heavy and too brittle."

Ruby nodded. "Too strong too, this looks like tungsten to me, maybe tungsten carbide."

Malik chimed in. "Yeah, it's tungsten carbide, I remember his saying once."

Ruby scratched her head. "That's annoying, you can't forge or cast a tungsten blade."

Nerada looked at the diminutive girl. "Why not?"

"Well, steel melts at a temperature of about 1400 odd degrees, tungsten melts at over three thousand. They use it in armor for mechs and such since it's so resistant to chemical attack, or HEAA rounds."

Nerada's eyebrows went up. "So how do you shape it?"

"Well it's a powder in it's raw form... You have to press it into shape, then heat it with a laser, or use a plasma former... Oh, a plasma former!"

Ruby bounced over to the complex machine. It was a simple looking affair. A large grey metal box with a retracting tray. In actual fact it was for joining pieces of metal, or forming metal powders into complex mechanical shapes, like gun components. It worked by using powerful, short ranged electromagnetic coils to direct a stream of ionized plasma down across the surface of the material. This melted and formed the material into tiny shapes, with the aid of several other magnets and movable plates to hold the object in place, or form a mold, depending on the setting.

It was a damn cool piece of kit, in Nerada's opinion.

Ruby's hands skated easily across the controls, and the machine began to whir to life.

She turned to face Nerada and Malik.

"Okay, that should take about a half hour to warm up. Let's make the file to put into the machine, shall we?"

Nerada nodded and moved over to a holo-table nearby. She punched in her passcode and the table lit up with a dark green light. The surface was marked with a grid, in pale green. Nerada tapped in a few more buttons and drew up an image of a series of components. Two blades, several pieces of the hilt, and a grip and pommel.

"I already prepared some pieces myself, but I have no idea how to make the cannon components."

Ruby took the hilt from her and turned it over in her hands. She ratcheted back the bolt and withdrew a round.

"Huh, still had one chambered..."

She turned the shell over in her hands.

"Where the hell did he get this? This is expensive stuff."

Nerada looked at the shell curiously. It seemed ordinary.

"What's so special about it?"

Ruby studied it critically. "It's a fifteen mil shell, which is rare on its own, most people prefer the twenty mil, or the fifty cal. But it's an APFSDS round, with a firestorm dust propellant."

Nerada blinked. "Uh... English please."

"You see, once the shell is fired the outer part splits away and falls to the floor, or just disintegrates. Inside is a super dense projectile, kind of shaped like an arrow. This gives the round hugely more velocity and armor penetration. This gun likely could have puched through the armor plates on a small mech suit. APFSDS stands for armor piercing fin stabilized discarding sabot."

She paused and looked at the shell again, turning it over in her hand.

"That is so COOL. This sword is AMAZING."

Nerada exchanged a glance with Malik.

Ruby continued to babble. "I mean, I've always been curious about this sword, because, you know, I've never been beaten in like, three hits before! So i kept on thinking about it, and now I get to basically re-make the whole thing!"

Nerada put a hand on Ruby's shoulder.

"Easy there, can you help us make the cannon assembly on the machine?"

"Yes. Sorry, I got a little excited there. Hehe. Anyway, the cannon."

She looked closely at the one mounted on the sword.

"Hmmmm, looks like atlesian military issue, they use as an infantry carried anti material gun. It has a few custom mods as well. Some dust accelerators, some recoil dampeners, a swapped out barrel. Very professional work..."

She tapped a few buttons on the holo table and several more components flickered into life.

"Okay, that's the firing mechanism, now we need... The trigger assembly, and the barrel. Hmmm, to muzzle break, or not to muzzle break, that is the question. Yeah, arrow shaped muzzle break, in high quality steel."

She tapped commands into the table and all the components arranged themselves together into a complete sword. It was the same as Vasren's old sword, but subtly different. The blades were slightly longer, and slimmer. The cannon barrel had a blocky muzzle break on the front, and less recoil dampeners. The hilt was the same, but the angular plates that covered the mechanism for the cannon now bore Vasren's personal crest.

Ruby nodded and uploaded the files to the plasma former.

"Okay, we need six canisters of tungsten carbide powder and three of high stress steel, then one of high carbon steel."

Malik retrieved the appropriate materials and slotted them one after the other into the former.

Ruby turned to face them.

"I'll have to assemble the sword myself, but I'll have it at your dorm room by tomorrow morning okay?"

Nerada nodded.

"Thanks for this Ruby, we owe you one."

She turned and made her way back to her dorm room.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello again, this is inquisitor ryke again, with the next installment of VENM. My other story, the glass alchemist, is now uploaded. I would encourage you to check it out if you like my writing, or have watched fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood. As always, leave a review, follow if you want to see more. And most importantly...**

**have a pleasant read.**

Chapter twelve, dreams.

Vasren was resting peacefully. At least, that's what anyone observing would have deduced. However, despite the peaceful exterior, his mind was wracked with turmoil

Vasren stood atop a hill, a mound of grassy earth dotted with boulders. The sun was setting, and the vista below him was bathed in a baleful red glow. A great hilly plain, dotted with boulders and rocky outcrops. The shadows were long, and striped the land in an ever shifting pattern.

The land below was in turmoil.

Rocks pushed up from the damp earth and crashed against one another. Splinters of stone and clods of semiliquid earth flew from the impact.

Vasren's coat billowed and snapped in the howling gale, the ceramic plates in the torso clattering.

He turned a slow circle, confused by his new surroundings.

Everywhere, as far as the eye could see, was the same chaos, the same overwhelming anarchy. Everywhere but the spire upon which Vasren stood.

Rocks began to jut from the ground, rising before him to form a walkway. He glanced around and put a tentative step onto the causeway. Immediately he heard a cracking, clashing, shattering scream of broken rock behind him. He sprinted forwards, the rocks collapsing behind him to fall into the churning, chaotic mass below. He felt the rocks give way beneath him and he tumbled down into the roiling mass below.

He felt himself hit the concrete hard, muddy water an inch deep flowing against his small, weak body. His right knee was badly scraped from the fall and bled a little into the water on the street. He was dimly aware of the enraged shopkeeper behind him, shouting obscenities and gesticulating wildly.

He stood up shakily and went off in search of shelter.

The rain poured on from overhead, soaking him to the bone in seconds. He found shelter under the awning of a closed up shop, and sat huddled up, back against the wall. His scrawny, bony nine year old's frame was wracked with spasms as his body fought to keep warm. He buried his head between his skinny knees and sobbed quietly to himself. He knew not how long he sat there, crying gently in the rain. Eventually, a second street urchin joined him. A skinny girl, about nine or ten years old. She sat next to him and leaned against his side, wrapping one arm around his shoulders.

"Shhh, don't cry, it can't be all that bad."

Vasren answered miserably. "No. Nothing is alright. Nothing will ever be alright again."

The girl rubbed his back gently. "Don't say that. Look, I even know a warm place to sleep. There's food."

Vasren's stomach growled. "Really?"

The girl nodded. "Come on. I'm astrid by the way. Nice to meet you."

She stuck out her hand. Vasren gripped it in his own bony little hand.

"Vasren."

The scene changed. Vasren slowly circled his opponent, copper pipe held tightly in one hand. The drunk held nothing but his fists.

"Go awahy boy, sheee shtole mah money. Shheees gonna pay for thhat."

Behind Vasren, astrid knelt in the alleyway. Her brown hair was bedraggled with rain and filth, her clothes thin and ragged. She was bleeding from above one eye, the blood running in the rain.

The drunk stepped forwards, fist balled unsteadily. Vasren struck like a snake, whipping the pipe across the mans temple, knocking him sideways into the alley wall. He growled and made a grab for the pipe, but Vasren was too quick. The nine year old struck again and again, laying blows across the head and shoulders of the drunk, who staggered forwards towards them, shrugging off every blow. The drunk grabbed Vasren by his shirt and slung him to the floor. He drew a knife, the blade gleaming dully in the light of the street lamps. The man drove the knife down, the blade lancing into Vasren's left side, lodging itself below his collarbone. The drunk raised the knife high as Vasren screamed in agony. Hot blood poured out of the wound. The drunk was never a let to drive the blow home. Astrid crashed into him, a rock gripped in one bony fist. She slammed the rock into his hand, breaking fingers and making him drop the knife. He howled and punched her with his good hand, slamming her frail body against the wall. She went on her hands and knees and retched, vomit and blood mixing on the floor of the alleyway. The drunk got unsteadily to his feet. Astrid's eyes hardened and she grabbed the knife's handle. She surged upwards, screaming as she drove the knife into the man's gut. She ripped the blade upwards, blood and entrails gushing from the wound to soak her front. The man vomited blood on her, before falling sideways, dead. Astrid dropped the knife and sank to her knees, vomiting again. She crawled over to Vasren, who was lying still, trying not to agitate his wound.

A silhouette appeared in the entrance to the alleyway. It surveyed the scene in an instant, and then stepped towards them. He knelt down by the two injured children. He looked between the two with sympathetic eyes.

"Come on, let's get you someplace warm."

Vasren fell through the floor, the concrete cracking and spilling him into an infinite black abyss. He screamed.

And landed sprawled on the floor of the sparring room, aching all over. He stood unsteadily and turned to face his teacher.

"Idiot boy, don't wait for me to attack. Hit first or get hit first, try again."

Vasren hefted the practice blade and swung hard at his teacher's head.

The sharpened alloy blade crunched through bone and flesh. Vasren looked down in horror. Astrid looked up at him, testament buried in her chest from where it had cloven through her clavicle.

"Why did you hit me Vasren? I thought you loved me..."

Vasren's breath came in short gasps. He felt as if a crushing weight was pushing down on his chest.

"I... I didn't. I... Oh Dust... What in all nine hells is this?"

Vasren was suddenly bowled over, tumbling sideways through the wall. The wood splintered and gave way to his weight. He landed on grey, ashen ground. Iron spikes and old weapons littered the ground, and rust formed pools of redness, surrounded by coarse red powder.

He stood up and looked about himself. He was himself again. No, this was him at fifteen. Back before he lost his right side. Back before the pain. He breathed deeply, through his nose. He could smell the rust, the ash, the smoke the iron. And another smell. Long forgotten but so familiar. Roses mixed with citrus juice. He turned slowly. Astrid stood on an iron outcropping nearby. She was dressed in her old gear. A tight fitting leather corset, a loose white shirt beneath it, and leather leggings. She held her twinned gun blades. Held them in a ready stance. Vasren turned towards her.

"Astrid..."

She spun into action. Her blades were a whirl of flashing steel. Bullets whizzed past him, some few were blocked by his armored coat. He ducked low and drew testament. The sword slashed upwards to crash against Astrid's blades, knocking them back. He lashed out with his offhand, but she dodged back lithely.

He had always hated sparring against Astrid.

She quickly recovered, and charged again, swords seeming to slice through the air itself. Vasren countercharged, and swung testament hard towards her. The blade shattered her like glass. Fragments scattered around him.

The ground around him erupted in fire. Molten iron spewed across him. He screamed in agony as he was consumed by the burning liquid.

He stood up slowly, the pain suddenly gone. He looked ahead. He was standing on a grassy, green plain. The terrain was pleasant, and gently rolling. He stood up and checked himself. He was as he had been when he arrived at beacon. Ahead of him he saw figures fighting. Five against three. He drew testament and began to advance. This testament had the reassuring heft of the second version, which used the carbide blades.

As he approached he saw the figures in more detail. At the centre was Nerada. Her sword was ablaze and armor and shield shining. She was battling Zoe and Raynor. Malik fought Darius and Aren, his claws barely missing the two gunmen. Lastly, and closest to him, Astrid fought for her life against Electra. Astrid's two swords spun blinding circles, sunlight gleaming from the blades. Electra fought back ferociously. Lightning arced along her whips and across her gloves. Even from here he swore he could smell ozone. In the background Nerada drove her sword through Raynor, the swordsman falling backwards to lie broken across the ground.

Vasren started to run.

Darius went down next. Malik leapt into him, knocking him over then tearing out his throat with his claws.

Astrid took a bolt of lightning from her opponent, the shock sending her spinning across the field. Electra advanced on her disabled opponent like an avenging angel. Electricity snapped and crackled across her body. Vasren broke into a desperate sprint. Electra struck. Arcs of lightning fixed to her downed opponent and current flooded through her body. Astrid jerked and spasmed like a fish on a line. Her beautiful face was contorted in agony. Smoke rose from her as electricity arced across her prone form.

Vasren saw Zoe cut down by Nerada as Aren was run through by one of Malik's knives.

He reached Astrid's corpse and fell to his knees by her body. He choked back a sob and gathered her up in his arms. Electra stood opposite him. She had a mournful expression.

"She's dead Vasren."

Vasren traced a mechanical finger over her cheek. His tears pattered down across her upturned face. "You... You killed her."

Electra shook her head. "No, no I didn't."

Vasren looked up at her, enraged. "I JUST SAW YOU KILL HER!"

Electra sighed sadly. "She is dead Vasren. Why can't you see that she's dead?"

Vasren shot to his feet in an instant. "I KNOW SHE'S DEAD."

Electra looked sadly at him. "Trust me, I wish you did. More than anyone."

A gale whipped up, driving before it a towering stormcloud. It swept across them, obscuring his senses.

The storm cleared instantly. He stood upon a balcony, overlooking a lake. The setting sun painted the waters in gold and pink. Astrid stood at the railing. Vasren started towards her, but his feet were like lead. He saw motion off to the side. A tallish figure walked over towards Astrid. Him. It was a younger Vasren. He was dressed in the same tough black long coat, but bore a simple long sword at his belt instead of his signature double bladed weapon.

Astrid turned to face him, then beckoned him over. He obligingly walked over, and leaned against the railing next to her.

Vasren was too far away to hear what was being said. He didn't need to be. He remembered this moment better than any other in his turbulent existence.

Astrid and his younger self had just finished a job. Stealing a load of plans and prototypes from an atlesian corporate train. After fencing the take they had booked a holiday at this lakeside retreat near vale.

The two of them stood shoulder to shoulder, looking out across the lake. They were talking about their past. He recalled telling her about the day they first met. She talked about the times they had fought together, saved each other's lives. The rest was indistinct.

Vasren looked down at the ground and swallowed hard. He looked up at the two young mercenaries. Vasren had his arm around Astrid's waist, and she held him in a similar manner. She leaned against his side. Vasren didn't want to watch what happened next. What was once the sweetest moment of his life was now too painful to touch. He gritted his teeth in fury. He looked up, tears streaking his face.

His younger self and Astrid were sharing a kiss. Their first. He remembered it well. The slow, blissful pace, the softness of her lips, the smell of her hair, her hand in his.

The light grew blinding, and Vasren shielded his eyes from the glare with one hand. When he could see again, he suddenly wished he couldn't. He was back on the airship. Darius's broken body lay nearby, perforated by shrapnel. A hint of Zoe's red hair could be seen through a rent in the hull, surrounded by the deeper red of her blood. The brute lay behind him, chest ruined and blood surrounding him in a sticky lake. Astrid lay in front of him. Her face was pale and flecked with blood. A piece of broken girder jutted up from her gut, red with her life's blood. He fell to his knees beside her. This was it. Where he had lost everything.

Astrid stirred and coughed weakly. Her eyes fluttered and she looked up at him.

"Vasren..."

The swordsman looked at her, grief wrenching through his gut like a hot iron.

Astrid reached up to caress his face, her hand leaving a smear of blood across his cheek. He bowed his head.

"Vasren, you've grown so hurt... I'm so sorry Vasren." She coughed blood, the crimson liquid dribbling from the corner of her mouth.

"I'm sorry I died, I'm sorry I left you alone. But I'm dead Vasren, and you have a promise to keep. Remember me, but don't let me stop you, or weigh you down. Remember me, but let me go."

Vasren snarled in pain and clenched his steel fist.

"Let me go, because I'm already gone." She sighed and lay back. "It's alright. It's enough to be remembered... By those who loved me in life."

Vasren bowed his head and stood. Astrid's corpse lay below him, peaceful despite the carnage around it.

"I'm sorry too Astrid." Light began to rise, shining in through the windows, almost blinding him.

"Thank you Astrid, for everything... And goodbye, my love."

The golden light shine brightly into his eyes, then turned white.

He opened his eyes.

The ceiling above him was bright white. Fluorescent lamps cast a clinical light across everything. To his left was a heart monitor, which bleeped a steady beat in time with his heart. An IV drip was attached to his biological arm, and was connected to a clear bag just labeled: glucose. To his right was a low table and a chair. On the low table was a pair of packages. One was square, and the other was longer, and more tapered. He sat up.

His body felt fine, considering the hell it had been through on that mountain. It looked like his team had gotten him back to beacon in one piece. Strange. He remembered losing his right arm again. He lifted the limb from beneath the covers.

It was different. His old arm had been a utilitarian affair. His new arm looked like a human arm. A muscular, polished silver human arm. He imagined his leg looked similar.

He pulled the IV drip from his wrist and stood up, testing his balance. It was good. His coma had allowed his body to heal completely. And judging by the electro-needles on a tray by his bed, the doctors had prevented his muscles from deteriorating. He looked down at himself. He was dressed only in a pair of stark white hospital shorts, and a button up white shirt of the same soft material. He undid the buttons and inspected his chest. Two large scars were all that was left from his ordeal on the mountain. His burn scars still decorated his right side, along with the livid graft marks from his steel side. He felt fine as well, so the dialysis machine and lung aids were working fine as well. As they should be.

He buttoned up his shirt and turned to the packages.

He tore them both open efficiently. The contents made him smile, a warm appreciative smile. He pulled on the coat and buttoned it up. It hung to just above his ankles, and had the stiffness of armor in the chest and back. Kevlar if he wasn't mistaken. It felt lighter and easier to move in than the last one. It had a symbol on the right hand side, on the chest. It was a stark white circle, and inside it was a stylized Raven. It's wings were half spread and its head pointed down. It's claws were outstretched as if to grip the rim of the circle. It was perfect.

He picked up the second package's contents and inspected it. It was testament. It was also new, and better. The blades were slimmer and longer, almost four feet long. The cannon barrel was one and a half feet long, with an angular muzzle break at the end. The blades, cross-guards and handle were all of tungsten carbide. Mono crystalline tungsten carbide upon closer inspection. It was stronger for the same weight, and held an even better edge. The material in this state was as hard as diamond, and twice as strong. Amazing work. The hilt was a mixture of different steels and tungsten. His new crest was emblazoned across one side. The grip was wrapped in black fabric, and had a heavy pommel at one end.

He sheathed the sword across his back and straightened his posture.

He was back, and better than ever.


End file.
